Kidnapped Hearts (5 page)

Jake chuckled.
“My hair is a bit shorter.”

Pamela closed
her mouth. The man her mother had said to avoid came to her rescue last night.
How had she not recognized him? Maybe because she hadn’t seen him in ages and,
oh yeah, she had had the
bleep
scared
out of her.
 

A loud motor
caught their attention. A motorcycle drove slowly past the café.

Jake hissed and
shifted in front of Pamela.

The driver wore
an emblem on the back of his jacket. Pamela leaned to get a better look, but
Jake’s body blocked her view. She inched over, and he moved, preventing her from
seeing. The dance continued until the motorcycle turned the corner.

Jake looked at
Pamela. “May I talk to you for a second in your office?”

Marge looked
from Pamela to Jake. “Are you the man who came to my Pamela’s rescue last
night?”

Pamela smiled
at Marge’s never-ending devotion.

Jake nodded.

Marge cupped
the side of Jake’s face. “I always knew you were a good boy.” A pat on the
cheek followed.

Jake chuckled
and followed Pamela to her office.

Once there, she
stood behind the desk and looked at the man looming in the doorway. Panama Jack
in all his splendor didn’t compare to this man’s natural good looks. Except for
a small scar on his forehead, Jake had no other noticeable flaws.

Jake closed the
door then faced her. “How are you after last night?”

“I’m fine.” He
may have to know her whereabouts, but it didn’t include letting him into her
mind.

His eyebrows
rose, studying her. “That good?”

Maybe she
answered him too quickly to be believable. She wanted their discussion to
finish as soon as possible. This whole situation made her uncomfortable. “Who
drove the motorcycle?”

“You might want
to sit down for what I’m about to say.”

Pamela watched
him. All humor had left his face. Actually, she hadn’t seen him smile since
leaving Marge. Sweat pebbled above her brow. Her sweating was really becoming a
problem. She slid a hand across the dampened skin and sat in the chair behind
the desk. From the grim expression on his face, she knew she wouldn’t like what
he had to say.

Jake sat in the
chair opposite her and linked his fingers in front of him. He looked about the
small office before focusing back on her. “Before I elaborate on the man on the
motorcycle, I need to see the other notes you’ve received.”

“I don’t know
where they are.”

Jake’s elbow
rested on the arm of the chair as his finger pressed against his temple,
considering her. “Do you remember what’s on them?”

The words on
the notes played across her mind, day and night. However, up until now, the
words hadn’t actually sunk into her brain as truly being dangerous. An eerie
feeling slid through her body, and the overwhelming sensation that what she
thought was a silly prank, a joke, was an actual threat, left her weak kneed.
“I remember. I found the first one under my windshield wiper. The note said:
Give back the bearer bonds
. I didn’t
understand it. I presumed teenagers in the neighborhood had played a prank on
me.”

Jake’s finger
slid down his face and along his chin. “And the second?”

“The second
read:
Leave the bearer bonds in the
trashcan by the City Docks or your mother will suffer the consequences.
”
Pamela swallowed. “I knew the second note didn’t sound like a prank, but I
don’t have much to do with my mother. Why would someone threaten her? We’re not
close.” Pamela propped her elbows on the desk and cradled her face. “I don’t
mean to sound heartless, but threatening my mother who lives in
California
doesn’t make
much sense.”

Jake studied
her, remaining silent for several seconds before blowing out a breath. “I’ll
need to see the notes.”

“Like I said, I
don’t have them.”

 
His eyes questioned. “Okay.”

A headache
started to form. “I’m not lying.”

“I didn’t think
you were.”

“Your eyes said
differently.”

He chuckled.
“I’m thinking.”

She applied
pressure to her temples, trying to relieve the tension. “What are you
thinking?”

“That someone
dragged you into dangerous territory, and I’m wondering why.” Leaning his
elbows on his knees, he clasped his hands together and watched her.

 
Why was he watching her so intently? She
sighed, might as well tell him how careless she was at dismissing the threats.
“I threw the notes away as soon as I got them.” She folded her arms on the
desk. “Wait a minute.” The trashcan near her desk overflowed with paper and
today’s mail. “The cleaning girl came down with the flu and hasn’t made it to
work for a few days. I found each note on my way to work, so I might have
thrown them in here.” Pamela dug hurriedly through the trash, spilling some of
it on the carpet.

Jake knelt in
front of her and helped. One by one, they scanned each piece of paper until one
piece remained. She nodded, and he uncurled the paper.

“
Give back the bearer bonds
,” he
grumbled. Standing, he glanced down at her. “I’ll take this for analysis.
Where’s the other one?”

“I don’t know.
I must have tossed it somewhere else.” She put the trash back in the can and
stood. “Jake, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know.
The FBI has a case investigating a terrorist named Sanjar.”

She gasped and
slumped into her desk chair.

“You’ve heard
of him?”

“Anyone who
owns a TV has heard of him.”

“Since I
haven’t had a television in years, I’ll take your word for it.”

That gave
Pamela pause.
Why?
Ignoring the
thought, another one seeped its way into her mind.
Did he think she associated with terrorists?
“Am I a suspect?”

He shuffled his
feet. “Every person is suspect, until they’re not.”

Pamela stood.
Her chair rolled behind her, hitting the printer table. “Excuse me.” Her finger
hit the surface of her desk, punctuating her point. “I’m not in cahoots with
any terrorist.”

“I have to
check every angle before I can dismiss a person.”

“Well, you’re
barking up the wrong tree looking at me.”

He touched her
shoulder and moved her until she faced him squarely, his gaze intent. “Maybe
so, but in the meanwhile, I or one of the other agents has to keep an eye on
you.”

His eyes
flicked to her mouth, paused, and then shifted back to her eyes. “No argument?”

She shifted her
gaze to his nose. Looking at his eyes unnerved her. What were they talking
about? That’s right, he wanted to babysit her. “I told you last night that I
don’t want a babysitter.”

He rubbed his
hand across the back of his neck and turned away as a hiss escaped him.

She flopped
down in her chair to put space between them, attempting to remove the heat
radiating from him. Too late, the hypnotic beat of anticipation pulsed between
her legs. She pressed them together and sucked in her lips.

A second later,
his face fierce, he clasped the arms of her chair and spun it until she faced
him. His eyes met hers. The pulse turned to a throb, and she crossed her legs.

He leaned in
close.

She couldn’t
move, couldn’t breathe. She waited for the unbearable image of Sam to form as
it always did when a guy sought to kiss her since the attack. Jake cleared his
throat, and all thoughts of Sam disappeared.

“Listen to me.
Sanjar is one evil son of a bitch, and until we have that asshole locked up,
you’ll do whatever I tell you.”

Okay, neither
Sam, nor a kiss, but he was demanding. “Or what? You’ll handcuff me to you to
make sure I do as you say?” Actually, the idea had some appeal.

“If that’s what
it takes.” Jake drew his head back, apparently realizing how close his face was
to hers, then straightened and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I didn’t
mean to order you or swear in your presence.”

The gentleness
of his eyes caused her to believe him, and she relaxed, but just for a minute.
The impact of the conversation ran through her mind. A terrorist sent the
notes. Tears threatened.

Jake knelt in
front of her and tugged on her hands, easing her to his chest. Clutching his
shirt, the tears broke and she cried. Minutes passed before she pushed him
away, outraged. He thought she worked for Sanjar. She didn’t want or need his
sympathies. She withdrew and aimed her eyes to the floor. “Where is Steve?” she
mumbled.

Jake pushed a
strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know Steve, but we need to figure how
you’re involved in Sanjar’s activities. We’ll work on that later, but first
Agent Lever will stay near you today and take you home when you’re ready. Other
agents will be posted outside your townhouse and the café. I have family
business to take care of tonight, but soon as I’m done, I’ll be come by.”

He grasped the
doorknob.

She needed one
more question answered. “Who drove the motorcycle?”

He paused and
observed her. “A Black Scorpion, one of Sanjar’s gang members.”

Chapter
Four

Jake left Pamela’s office and headed
toward the dining room. The alarm in her eyes was apparent. His directness had
been callous. The way he saw it, he had two choices. One, to sugar coat his
words to make them sting less, or two, be straightforward, removing all
uncertainties. Sugar coating information never worked out in his favor when
civilians were involved. His meaning was usually lost in translation. So, he
had blurted that the Black Scorpions were Sanjar’s gang and left. He was sure
he’d have to answer questions later.

Noticing the patio was empty, and Marge
was nowhere in sight, he advanced through the dining room to the kitchen. He
pushed one of the swinging doors open and peeked inside. Marge stood behind an
island kneading dough. The waitress was nowhere in sight. “See you around,
Marge.”

She looked up from her work and smiled
brightly at Jake. If he had known either one of his grandmothers, he imagined
they’d been like Marge, always happy to see him. “Come back later. I’ll bake
you some cookies.”

“I’ll try.”

“Gonna see your parents today? Oh that’s
right, they’re on a cruise.” Marge looked down at the dough. “I’d love to take
a cruise.”

“They return later this week.” No sense
telling Marge that he’d learned this information from Hal. He hadn’t talked to
his foster family for years.

“Tell them I said hi, dear.”

Jake nodded and backed out of the door.

“Oh Jake,” Marge called after him.

He stuck his head inside the door and was
surprised to see Marge standing in front of him. She wrapped her arms around
him, making sure her doughy hands didn’t touch him, then kissed his cheek. “I
am so glad you’re home safe and sound.”

Yep, grandmother material. He brushed a
kiss on her cheek. “Me too.”

Jake let the swinging door close behind
him, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He pushed open the front door
and went outside. The sun shone brightly, promising a hot evening. He surveyed
the area and spotted plain-clothed FBI guys positioned nearby, one on the
corner of the street, and another sitting on a bench across from the café. In
his mind, the FBI always stood out. You just needed to know what to look for.
They either tried to be slick by smoothing their hair back, so their wrist was conveniently
near their mouth as they talked into their radio, or they scratched their ear
as they tapped the radio in their ear. At this moment, both men were doing
exactly that. They were probably reporting his location to Larry. He didn’t
like it, but it was the name of the game. Larry wouldn’t be letting Jake out of
his sight until Sanjar was behind bars.

He nodded at the men and strolled west
toward his car. He hoped the guys wouldn’t see any action, nevertheless, but it
was likely they would. At this point, there was no telling when Sanjar would
strike. After all, Sanjar had Jennifer killed in broad daylight.

Jake shoved his hands in his jeans’
pockets. He hated wearing so many clothes in the middle of summer. If he had to
chase someone, jeans offered more protection than shorts, although, they were
constricting.

He shook his head, recalling how he met
Jennifer. At that time, he was undercover as a fisherman. Sanjar was using
waterways to fund his cause against the
US
. Since Jake was an expert
fisherman, he landed the job as
The
Warrior
. On land, his alias drove a motorcycle and wore a leather jacket
with a Black Scorpion insignia on the back. Jennifer loved the whole bad boy
persona, and she quickly became a biker groupie, hanging out at the same bars
he did. He could still hear her yell his undercover name,
Warrior,
in the throes of passion. He grimaced. If he never heard
the name again, it’d be okay with him.