F-Stop (5 page)

“Three of my partners are married and all of their wives have some kind of psychic gift. In fact, Mark never would have been rescued without Faith’s telepathy and a vital piece of top secret equipment would have fallen into enemy hands without Mia’s visions. Rick’s wife even has a psychic dog, if you can believe that.” Kat laughed, as much at the look on Mike’s face as at the realization that he’d had to come to terms with something he didn’t believe in. “You forget. Nothing’s too absurd for me.”

“All right, you want honest, here’s honest.” He leaned forward again, his eyes locking onto hers. “I don’t even know if we can go anywhere with this but like I said, the minute I saw you again I knew I wanted to try. Can we at least test the waters? I promise not to leave you hanging again. To tell you what I’m doing if I can.” His mouth turned up in a rueful grin. “And not to be an asshole. I hope.” She felt something inside her that had been wound so tight begin to loosen.

It bothered her that she was ready to give in so easily. Especially with everything going on in her life.

Oh no. I can’t do this again.

But he looked so appealing, so earnest. And this time there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. The distant look was gone, replaced by heat and desire. And need. Strange, because Mike D’Antoni had never needed anyone or anything.

“Maybe…” She let her voice trail off.
No, no maybes. Tell him, Katherine. Tell him you
can’t do this again.

But then his words overrode her thoughts.

“Maybe’s a good start. A very good start. Let’s order, okay? The food here is excellent.”

As relaxed as Mike seemed while they ate, Kat was equally as tense, on edge, waiting for the next verbal axe to fall. She had to make him understand that they couldn’t just go back and start over.

“Mike, listen,” she began, but her words seemed to fly over his head.

He just winked at her then glanced at his watch. “Look. I have a meeting this afternoon with two of my partners and a potential new client.”

“Go ahead,” Kat said. “I have something I have to do today too. Thanks again for lunch.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, just a minute here. You aren’t getting away that easily. How about dinner tonight? There’s a great new restaurant on the Riverwalk. Tell me where you’re staying and I’ll pick you up at seven. If that’s all right,” he added.

“This great new restaurant wouldn’t happen to be at your hotel, would it?” She said it only half-jokingly but she wouldn’t put anything past him. And she definitely wasn’t ready for that yet.

Mike grinned at her. “That would be just a little too obvious, even for me. No, I’m going to be on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.”

Kat sighed. “Okay. I’m probably making the biggest mistake of my life but I’ll have dinner with you.” She pulled a small notepad from her purse, wrote Mari’s address on it and her cell number. “Do you need directions?”

Mike folded the paper and stuck it into his pocket. “Nope. I know the area.”

“Call me on my cell if anything happens to change your plans.”

“Trust me,” he told her, signaling for the waiter. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
Chapter Three

Eli Wright’s head throbbed and his throat burned but he forced himself to lie quietly as he tried to assess the situation. His hands and feet were bound with what appeared to be duct tape and he was folded up in a cramped position. Sydney, Lissa and Mari were lying next to him, still out cold and in equally uncomfortable positions.

And no one had taken note of the fact that he was actually awake. As long as he could fool them he could try to make some sense out of what was happening. Try to remember landmarks or anything else that would be helpful.

They were in the same van riding along yet another bumpy road. He ran his gaze over the women as best he could from his twisted position, satisfying himself that they had no visible bruises or wounds and they were at least still breathing. The next thought that slammed into him was the two dead security guards and poor Len, an earnest young man, dumped out like so much garbage. He had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting.

He couldn’t see where they were because there were no windows in the back. The men in the front seats were speaking low, in Spanish. He strained to hear their words, adept enough in the language to understand, if only he could make out the words.

What the hell was going on here? And who were these men who had grabbed them so easily? Who knew just where to do this?

Getting the information to plan this wouldn‘t necessarily have been hard for these men. He flew to San Diego a lot and it was common knowledge Il Maggiore was a favorite restaurant. Everyone from the mailroom clerk to his executive vice president had that information. The question was, who would pass the specifics of this trip along to these people and why.

A man of his enormous wealth was a hot target. But Eli had come from nothing, building Wright International from a tiny one-man operation to the vast global empire it was one step at a time. A combination of brains and luck had helped him reach where he was today but despite the upscale home he lived in and the lifestyle he and his family led, he still couldn’t see himself as anyone but plain old Eli Wright.

That was obviously a major error in judgment.

As he was trying to make sense of it all, the van came to a stop. Seconds later the side door slid open and two men appeared.

“Time to change transportation,
señor
,” the taller one said, hauling Eli roughly out of the van and setting him on his feet.

“My family,” he started to say.

“All of you will be coming with us.” He peeked into the interior of the van. “It is good the women still sleep. Easier to transport.”

“You didn’t have to kill the young man who was with us.” He could barely control his anger.

The man gripping his arm chuckled, an unpleasant sound. “Not to worry. He’s just finishing his nap at the side of the road. It is hoped that by now someone has stopped to help him.”

“You didn’t—”

“Kill him? No,
señor.
That wasn’t part of our orders.”

“Who is giving you these orders?” Eli wanted to know.

“That’s not information you need to have. Shut up or I’ll have to hurt one of the women.”

Eli ground his teeth together. If it had just been him he’d have pushed but he had to make sure everyone else was unharmed to the best of his ability. He blinked his eyes at the sudden assault of bright sunlight. They were at some kind of landing strip, out in the middle of nowhere. A large private jet whose configuration was unfamiliar to him sat on the tarmac near a single hangar. Squinting his eyes, he could make out the logo on the side—Mazatlan Textiles, with a swoop under the words in the design of a serape.

He’d never heard of the company and he thought he knew every company of any size in Central and South America.

He felt a knife slash the tape binding his ankles but before he could take a step a hand gripped his upper arm roughly.

“You are out here in where no one can find you,
señor
,” a heavy voice said. “No one here will pay any attention to you. I am going to walk you to that plane. At the first sign of foolishness on your part, we will kill one of the females. This is no idle threat, believe me.”

Eli glanced to his right and saw his wife, his daughter and Mari being carried to the plane. It was obvious they were still unconscious.

“They’d better wake up,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“Trust me,
señor
,” the man said, with a vicious chuckle, “they are no good to us dead. For the moment. So behave yourself. I’d hate to sacrifice one of them.”

“Someone will spot this plane,” Eli pointed out as he was hustled up the foldout stairway.

“This plane?” The man snorted. “We fly this route all the time. Everyone knows Mazatlan Textiles. Come on. We have no time to waste.”

In what seemed like seconds Eli and the women were buckled into seats, Eli’s feet taped together again and the stairway lifted up. The engines whined as they roared to full power and they taxied down the runway. Eli could only pray that someone, somewhere, would find out what was happening and where they were being taken.

* * * * *

“Vivi, I can’t thank you enough.”

Kat finished the last sip of the delicious herbal tea Vivi Alderson had served her, feeling relaxed for the first time in days.

“No problem, my dear.” Vivi smiled at her. “We all go through this in some form or other more often than you might realize.”

“I had no idea what was happening to me,” she sighed. “Sometimes I think this so-called gift is more of a curse than a blessing.”

“Don’t even think that.” Vivi’s voice was firm. “You’ve done so much good. Helped so many people. The mind is like any other part of the body. Sometimes it just needs a rest when it’s not working so well.”

Kat laughed. “I should tell that to the people who think I’m
out
of my mind.” She set the cup down in the saucer. “I’m going to start using the new meditation techniques you showed me today. Also focusing on just one or two methods of remote viewing until the clairvoyant sense is strengthened again.”

She had listened carefully to everything Vivi had told her, which answered most of her questions. What she didn’t want to tell her—didn’t want to admit to herself—was the possibility that the situation with Brent had triggered the psychic weakness. If that was the case, she hoped the meditation exercises she’d been given would help cleanse her mind and get her back on track. If it meant staying in San Antonio longer—putting distance between herself and Brent—that’s what she’d do.

“Good girl. You know my niece also has a psychic gift.”

Kat raised an eyebrow. “Your niece? Do I know her? Or of her?” Vivi lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Her name is Faith Halloran but you might recognize her as Faith Wilding.”

“The author?” Kat asked? “I absolutely love her books.”

“One and the same.” Vivi picked up the empty cups and carried them to the sink.

“If you have time while you’re here, I’d really like you to meet her. She’s a terrific person.” Vivi chuckled. “Of course, I’m the tiniest bit prejudiced.” Kat frowned. “Halloran. I happen to know a man who’s partners in an agency with a man named Halloran. Mark Halloran. He lives here in San Antonio. Are they related?”

Vivi’s laugh was a tinkling sound in the air. “Talk about life’s coincidences. Mark is Faith’s husband. Which one of the partners is your friend?” Katherine didn’t know whether to be excited or worried. She didn’t want to get wrapped up too tightly in something that involved Mike until she knew where they were heading again. “Friend may not be the operative term. I know Mike D’Antoni.”

“Ah yes. The flyboy.” Vivi grinned. “He’s a killer with the ladies.” Then she looked at Kat with startled eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. Are you and Mike…?”

“Don’t worry.” Kat shook her head. “I had my go-round with Mike.”

“I understand he’s in town on some business. Faith just happened to mention it in passing when we spoke this morning.” She studied Kat’s face, a knowing look in her eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that.”

“We ran into each other quite accidentally and had lunch.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m having dinner with him. More of his boyish charm. But he’s got a lot of fences to mend to get more than a dinner companion out of me.”

“Good.” Vivi clapped her hands. “I’d love to see a smart woman take him down a peg or two. Not that it’s any of my business.”

Kat rose and impulsively hugged the woman. “I have no secrets. By the way, I’m going to be here for two or three more days and I’d love a chance to meet Faith.”

“Give me your cell number and I’ll be sure she calls you. I think you two would enjoy each other. And Katherine?”

“Yes?”

“Please call me whenever you need to. Don’t feel you have to lick this problem by yourself.”

Katherine blinked back tears as the women hugged again. One part of her life was looking up, anyway. She didn’t think her situation with Mike would be resolved that easily.

* * * * *

Brett Fontaine snapped his cell phone shut and shoved it into his pocket.

Damn! Damn! Damn!

He was getting sick and tired of listening to Katherine’s voice mail. Just when he was sure he was wearing her down, she’d slipped out of town and he had no idea where to find her. He’d thought things were going so well with them and then bang!

Goodbye, Brent. It’s been fun. Send me a Christmas card.

Katherine Culhane was the most interesting woman he’d ever met. And she couldn‘t deny the sex between them had been great. Outstanding, even. Although he’d always had the nagging feeling she was holding some part of herself back. But he was sure he’d have plenty of time to wear her down.

Women had never been a challenge to him. He knew he was easy on the eyes and, thanks to a fat trust fund and a thriving family business, had more money than he could ever spend. Katherine had been a challenge, not falling into his arms the way most women did.

But she’d been worth the effort. More than worth it.

This was the first time a woman had broken off a relationship with him. He was always the one who walked. Somehow he’d find her and make her see reason.

Understand that they belonged together.
Nobody
ever walked away from Brent Fontaine.

* * * * *

Mike watched the woman across the table from him. The flame from the candle on the table picked up the highlights of her streaked blonde hair and caught the emerald of her eyes. Dinner had been comfortable between them, the conversation easy. He’d done his best not to push anything. He was just trying to read her reactions and figure out where he had to go next. Now they lingered over after-dinner drinks as he tried to stretch the evening out as long as he could.

How had he managed to screw up so badly with her? How had he not known from the beginning that she was different from all his other women? That she wasn’t another of what his partners called “Mike’s playthings”? Now he knew he had an uphill battle to win back her trust.