Danger in Paradise (7 page)

The man paused and she guessed he was deciding how much he could tell them. Eventually he spoke. “A man named Richard Taylor.”

The name wasn’t familiar. She gnawed on her bottom lip. Maybe this was the break she’d been waiting for since she was fifteen. Maybe she could finally find peace or at least closure.

 
“Three days is all I need, then you’ll never have to worry about Richard Taylor again. You’ve got twenty minutes to grab what you need and get out of here. Don’t take that yacht. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Fine.” Luke nodded then shoved his prisoner forward.

Without pause, the two men walked out the front door. They didn’t even stop to cut his cuffs off.

Luke stepped forward as if he was having second thoughts about letting them go, but Hope grabbed his arm. If they’d wanted them dead, they would be. The stranger’s intentions might not be clear, but his order was concise. They needed to get out of there.

When they were gone, Luke turned toward her, his voice accusing. “I thought you were a photographer.”

The hair on the back of her neck rose and she yanked her hand away. “I am. And I don’t like your tone.”

“Why would someone put out a hit on a photographer?” His eyes narrowed.

“Do you really want to worry about that now?” She rolled her eyes to cover her very real fear and started for the stairs. She stood at the bottom of the stairwell, waiting for him to make a decision. As much as she wanted to scream in frustration about what was happening, she couldn’t. They needed to keep a level head and get out of the house in case those two guys changed their minds and came back.

It was obvious Luke was torn between grilling her and getting out of there. “Fine, but this isn’t over.”

* * * * *

Hope held on to the fraying straps that secured her against the side of the hollowed out Cessna. When Luke said they’d be flying to Jamaica, she’d expected a small two-seater plane. She hadn’t expected to be strapped into a cargo hull sharing the trip with crates of coconuts, pineapples, and what she was fairly sure was marijuana.

Directly across from her on the other side of the plane, Luke was strapped in, too. His eyes were closed, but she was almost certain he wasn’t asleep. He’d barely said two words as they’d grabbed their stuff and had only spoken directly to her when she’d asked a question. Even if she’d wanted to talk to him, she could barely hear herself think above the engine. Apparently the owner of the plane didn’t see any reason to add insulation or sound-proofing. Then again, they probably didn’t transport people very often.

Luke seemed to have a plan and since her mind was still reeling, she wasn’t going to fight him. As soon as they landed, she needed internet access. If someone had enough money to hire a killer, then there was a good chance they were well-known enough to be on the internet.

The plane dipped suddenly and Luke’s eyes flew open. They made eye contact, but just as quickly he averted his eyes to the front of the plane. He was ignoring her and that just pissed her off. He had no right to be angry at her when she’d done nothing wrong.

As the plane twisted violently, her stomach pitched with nausea. Everything not strapped down shifted. Crates and random fruit rolled around the interior. When the plane twisted again, she yelped as something struck her head. Before she had a chance to absorb the pain, blackness engulfed her.

The man everyone called John pulled out one of his throw away cell phones and dialed a familiar number as he and his partner hiked down the deserted beach.

His boss picked up on the second ring. “Bishop, here.”

“It’s done.” He didn’t identify himself and didn’t even consider going into details over an unsecured line.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. We have three days.” He glanced around, even though it was nearly pitch black. Clouds covered the moon and stars, veiling their existence.

“Where are they?”

“They won’t cause any trouble until the deal is done. Trust me.” If time had allowed, they would have taken Hope and Luke into protective custody and placed them in a safe house. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and he couldn’t risk a leak or trust anyone but himself.

He’d been working for Richard Taylor for two years. This job had cost him his marriage, his life. One way or another, he was bringing that bastard down.

“Call me when you have the location of the meet,” Bishop said.

“Done.” He disconnected.

“What did the boss man say?” Sanders asked as they neared the waiting zodiac.

“Just to call him when we have more details about the big meeting.” The salty water drenched them as they waded in.

His partner nodded, and they both pushed the small boat into the waves before jumping in. “Why do you think Richard wanted her dead? She didn’t even know him.”

“Don’t know.” He had a few guesses, but Taylor hadn’t seen fit to tell him why the girl needed to die. Just that she did. Considering he’d sent that weasel son of his with them, he could make an educated assumption.

Now that he’d proved himself, John had no doubt he and Sanders would be included in Richard’s more intimate dealings. Until recently he’d been nothing more than hired muscle. Things would drastically change after tonight. Or at least he hoped they would. If not, he’d wasted two years.

“Do you really trust them to stay out of sight for three days?”

He nodded. “Luke Romanov isn’t an idiot.” He’d reviewed the other man’s file and was satisfied he’d be astute enough to listen. Luke had former military experience, and he ran a million-dollar security company. By now, he’d probably guessed they worked for the government.

“You think Richard will include us in the deal now?” Sanders’ voice was barely audible over the engine and ocean waves.

He nodded and said a silent prayer he was right. “He’d better or we’ve wasted two years.”

Once they made it back to the yacht, Patrick was passed out. No surprise there. Instead of waking him, John called Patrick’s father, who’d demanded proof. John had counted on that, so he sent Richard Taylor a picture of two bodies charred beyond recognition to an encrypted phone.

Now if he could just wrap up this undercover job, he could go back to his life.

What was left of it.

* * * * *

Hope opened her eyes and groaned. Light filtered in through a sliding glass door, bathing her in warmth. She sat up and immediately clutched the back of her head. After a few moments, the pain abated, so she pushed the unfamiliar palm tree covered comforter off and ventured out of bed. She shivered when her feet hit the cool tile floor. After a quick glance around, she guessed she was in a villa or a cottage. No personal items lay on the shelves or dresser and the room had a hotel feel to it.

She padded across the floor toward the glass door and drew back the sheer white curtain. In cargo shorts and a plain brown T-shirt, Luke stood with his back to her, facing the aquamarine water and talking on his cell phone. Without announcing her presence, she walked outside, savoring the feel of the sun-warmed grass underneath her feet.

“I’ll call you when I know more,” he growled before flipping his phone shut.

“Uh, hi.” She held up a hand, trying to block the sun and get his attention.

He swiveled and his expression softened instantly. “Hey, how are you feeling?” Before she could answer, he continued. “Here, sit.” With a gentleness she hadn’t expected, he led her to one of the lounge chairs.

“Where are we?”

“A friend is letting us stay here. We’re on the northern coast of Jamaica. Right on Discovery Bay.” He motioned behind him to the still waters of the bay, his eyes never leaving hers.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but something had changed in him. And that’s when it hit her. She was wearing a pair of light blue cotton pajama pants and a matching tank top. Both of which, she hadn’t put on herself. She could feel the heat slowly creep up her neck and cheeks. “Did you dress me?”

He sat on the edge of the chair. “Yes, but are you sure you’re okay?” Worry lines etched around his dark eyes.

“I think so. What happened?” He didn’t even seem fazed that he’d dressed her. She got all hot and bothered at the sight of him without a shirt on and he didn’t care that he’d seen her naked. Ouch.

“You were hit by a coconut.”

When he said coconut, she remembered the plane and the jostling and…“I remember now.”

“You’ll probably be sore today. You might have a concussion, but I doubt it. I woke you up a few times and you were fine.”

“You did?” Her memory was fuzzy around the edges.

“You don’t remember?” His frown deepened as he stared at her.

Now that he said something she had vague snatches of him sitting next to her on a bed, rubbing her hair back from her face and saying gentle words. “Kind of.”

“Listen, earlier, I’m sorry if I accused you—”

“It’s fine. Do you have a computer?” She was sure he had questions, but chances were she couldn’t answer any of them, and she needed to look up Richard Taylor.

“Yes, and I’m already one step ahead of you.” He shifted along the seat, moving a few inches closer.

She swallowed hard as his intoxicating, spicy scent twined around her. Probably not what she should be focusing on. “You are?”

“I’ve pulled up everything I could find on him, but you need to eat, first.”

She didn’t like people ordering her around, but his ‘order’ sounded more like a plea so she didn’t argue. Besides, her stomach was growling.

He stood and held out a hand to help her to her feet. Normally standing didn’t require effort, but her body felt as if it had been through a blender. As they walked across the perfectly manicured lawn, she asked, “Why are you being so nice?”

“Guilt.” His answer was quick. Maybe he’d been expecting her question.

“Oh.”

“I was an ass. You were just as surprised by that attack as I was, but I was too stubborn to admit it. I was taken off guard…and that rarely happens.”

She was silent as he held open the door leading to the kitchen.

He continued, almost reluctantly. “And, I was embarrassed.”

Her head whipped up. “Why?”

“I should have protected you better. It’s what I do for a living,” he muttered as faint redness crept up his neck.

“No one could have predicted what happened. Hell, I still don’t believe what happened and I was there.” She placed a light hand on his arm. When his muscles flexed under her grasp, she immediately let go.

“We’ll figure it out. Apparently we’ve got three days to kill.” He popped two bagel halves in the toaster, and she took a seat at the glass-top kitchen table.

“Who were you talking to earlier?”

He pulled cream cheese and jelly from the refrigerator as he answered. “My partner. He thinks we should come back to Miami.”

“And you don’t?” She’d wondered what his plan was. She couldn’t blame him for contacting his partner because she planned to contact Mac as soon as she figured out a few more things.

“No. I was pissed at first–well, I’m still pissed—but the more I think about it, I think those guys work for the government. And I think we should do exactly as they said. We’re supposed to be gone for a couple weeks anyway so no one is going to miss us. I bet in three days we’re going to see Richard Taylor on the news for a big bust of some kind.”

“Wait a minute, when you say government, you mean our government?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice.

He shrugged as he pulled out plates and utensils. “They knew too much about us and they let us go. Once we figure out who Richard Taylor is, I think we’ll have our answers.”

“What happens if we don’t hear anything in three days?”

“Then we head back to Florida and we’ll figure something out. No matter what, I’ll make sure you have protection.”

She stared out one of the windows and digested his words. Palm trees swayed with the wind, but she forced herself to look away. She was getting nauseous. The bagels popped from the toaster and she jumped in her seat.

“Cream cheese?” He placed a plate in front of her and sat across the table with his own.

She nodded, but stopped him when he started smoothing cream cheese on her bread. “I can get it.” He handed it to her, but she didn’t miss the worried expression in his dark eyes. “I’m fine, I promise. I think I liked you better when you were angry at me.” She smiled, hoping he’d realize she was joking, but all she received in return was a frown.

Hope wouldn’t admit it aloud, but she liked the change in him. Mac and Frank were the only men who fussed over her. Actually, they were the only men in her life she allowed to get close to her. Thanks to years of therapy she might have gotten over her fear of sex, but that didn’t mean she dated with frequency.

Or at all, really. Men were too much hassle, and sex wasn’t all that great. Although she knew it had to be. People wouldn’t make such a big deal about it if there wasn’t more to it than what she’d experienced.

Neither said anything while they ate, but as soon as they finished, she was ready to start researching. After he placed both their plates in the sink she was practically jumping up and down. At least internally.

“Can I look at your computer now?” she asked.

Nodding, he disappeared through the open entryway. The whole house appeared to be tiled, and his feet squeaked along the floor. Seconds later he was back with his laptop. He plugged it in and placed it on the table.

“You’ve been busy,” she commented as she scrolled through different articles he’d marked as favorites. Richard Taylor even had his own Wikipedia article. Apparently biotechnology was very lucrative. Why would he have an interest in her though?

“And you don’t recognize him?” Luke hovered behind her, watching the screen as she scrolled.

She shook her head. “Not even a little bit. None of this makes sense. Are you sure this is the right Richard Taylor?”

“He’s the only one who came up who lives near—” His phone rang, cutting him off. “That’s my partner. I need to take this.”

She nodded without glancing at him. She was curious about his business partner since he hadn’t mentioned one, but nothing could stop her from what she was doing. The thud of the door behind her told her she was alone. Clicking on the family link in the Wikipedia article she hoped to garner more background. “Wife dead, son…” She stopped scrolling at the face on the screen.

Despite the meal she’d just had, a hollow feeling settled in her gut. After years of wondering and years of recurring nightmares she finally had a name and face to the man who had changed her life. A face to the man who had ripped away what little childhood she had left.

Bile rose in her throat. She wanted to run to the private bathroom attached to her bedroom but knew she’d never make it. She stumbled blindly toward the sink, and emptied the contents of her stomach until she was dry heaving. Still hunched over the sink she clutched the counter with one hand and turned on the faucet, hoping to hide the evidence. She couldn’t handle more questions from Luke. He was biding his time before he asked more, and she couldn’t deal with an onslaught. If he asked her anything now she was liable to break down and tell him everything.

She’d hate herself for it later.

She wished she
could
just tell Luke everything. He had a right to know why someone was after them, but if she told him, then she’d have to explain how she came to live with Mac. She wasn’t ashamed of what had happened to her—not anymore—but she didn’t want to put Mac in danger. He’d taken in a young, difficult teenager with a lot of baggage and had never made her feel unwanted. Over the years, no matter what, she’d known she was loved unconditionally. Something foreign in her experience. It had taken a long time, but she’d finally learned to cope with her past and to accept that Mac would always be there for her. She couldn’t betray the one man who’d given her that gift.

Just as the last remnants disappeared down the drain, the door opened. Luke walked in and it looked like he had news, but a sharp unexpected wetness stung her eyes. Brushing past him, she fled to her room. She refused to cry in front of him.  

After she shut the door behind herself, she pushed out a shaky breath and managed to contain her tears. She found her cell phone buried in one of her bags. After turning it on, she stared at it for a long moment before calling Mac. He needed to know what was going on. If someone was after her, then it was probable they knew who Mac was. She had no doubt he could take care of himself but he had a right to know he was in danger.

After pressing the first speed dial, she held her breath.

He answered on the first ring. “Hope! What’s going on?”

She swallowed. Unless he was psychic, he couldn’t already know she was in Jamaica. “Why do you sound so wired?”

“I’ve been trying to reach you for the past thirteen hours. Why hasn’t your phone been on?” His words came out in a rush.

“I’m not exactly sure where to start.” She fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

“The beginning is normally a good place,” he said quietly.

Ten minutes later she’d spilled everything, including who Patrick Taylor was, the son of the man who’d put out a hit on her. Saying the words aloud twisted her gut, but it also gave her a sense of freedom. And in a weird way, closure. Maybe not completely, but putting a name to his face still helped. “So, what do you think?”

“For starters, the man who let you go wasn’t lying. He does work for our government. He’s undercover.”

She sat upright in bed. “How could you possibly know that?” 

“It’s part of the reason I’ve been so worried about you. Bishop called and told me Richard Taylor put out a hit on you, but that he had a man on the inside who wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I didn’t understand why a stranger would want you dead. It didn’t make sense until…until now.” His voice broke on the last syllable.

Ah, the infamous Bishop. It seemed the man knew everything about everything. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she warned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” By his subdued tone, she guessed he knew exactly what she meant.

“You know precisely what it means. Just because we know who…it doesn’t mean you have liberty to do
anything
.” The thought of him behind bars or worse because of her was something she couldn’t have hanging on her conscience. Life without Mac was unimaginable.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “I want you to promise. At least for right now. Come on Mac, you’re my only family. What would I do without you?” If she had to play the guilt card she would.

“Fine.” He sighed the word.

“And you have to promise you won’t tell Frank.” She knew Mac. He’d find a loophole to his promise if he wanted.

“Damn it Hope, I promise.” It came out as a growl.

He might not be happy about it, but she knew he’d never lie to her. “Okay, is there anything else your friend told you I should know about?”

“No,” he said
almost
immediately. The pause was slight, but enough that she caught it.

Her head hurt though and she didn’t feel like playing a game of twenty questions. Because if Mac didn’t want to tell her something it would be hell getting him to open up. Assuming he would at all. “Okay, I’ve got my cell phone on now so you can reach me anytime.”

After they disconnected she brushed her teeth and got in the shower in an effort to clear her head. She’d have to face Luke eventually, but she needed time.