Читать книгу Bullseye: Seal - Carol Ericson - Страница 12
ОглавлениеIce water raced through her veins. She gulped against the sensation of drowning, but the air never seemed to make it to her lungs. She sputtered and gasped.
The stranger across from her squeezed her knee. “Do you need some water?”
“Water?” She gurgled. Why would she need water when the stuff threatened to overwhelm her?
“Gina, are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring it on you like this.”
“Spring what?” She pressed her hands to her face, her skin cool and clammy beneath her touch. “Who are you? What do you want from me? Have you been the one sending those texts?”
His lying eyes widened. “Texts? Someone’s been sending you texts?”
She tried to hop off the stool but forgot her feet were hooked around its legs, and she fell forward instead. His arms curled around her, breaking her fall as she landed against his chest.
“I’ve given you a shock.” He gently lifted her from the stool and set her on wobbly legs. “A table opened up in the corner. Let’s grab it.”
She didn’t want to grab anything with this man, but she couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, never mind launch some kind of offensive against him.
She allowed him to lead her to the table and she plopped down in the chair.
He placed her mug of beer in front of her. “Have a drink.”
Wrapping her hands around the heavy glass, she raised it to her lips and gulped down half the mug. Then she wiped the foam from her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Are you going to tell me who you are or am I going to whip that weapon out of my purse for encouragement?”
He had the nerve to smile, if that’s what that twist of his lips meant.
“I’m glad to see you’re coming around. You had me worried there for a minute.”
“Stop stalling, Josh Edwards, or whoever you are.”
“Josh Elliott—only a partial lie.”
She ignored the hand he held out to her. “That doesn’t tell me a thing. What are you and why are you stalking me and how do you know about my father and my husband and how they died?”
“I’m a United States navy SEAL.” He pulled out a wallet and snapped an ID card on the table between them.
Pressing her lips into a line, she poked it with her finger as if it could bite her. It looked official, but she knew all too well anything could be faked or forged. “And?”
“We assisted the CIA in Colombia when they took down the controlling members of the Los Santos drug cartel and the two terrorists they were meeting.”
She flinched, nearly biting her tongue. “Terrorists?”
“The two men your father was meeting with that day—known terrorists.”
The ice in her veins turned to molten lava as rage coursed through her system. “My father was meeting with terrorists in his home, while I was there? While RJ was there?”
“Afraid so.” He cocked his head at her.
He didn’t believe she didn’t know.
“How did you assist the CIA? I didn’t see any military there that day.”
He blinked once, his spiky black lashes falling over dark eyes filled with secrets. “That’s classified information. Let’s just say we were there for protection.”
“Not mine.”
“Did the CIA...rough you up?” His jaw tightened.
“Did they pull out my fingernails under a bright bulb? Not quite, but it was no picnic, and the DEA was even worse.”
“I’m sure it was...traumatic to lose your father and husband in that manner.”
She flicked her fingers. “That was then. This is now. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to protect you.”
She snorted. “From what?”
“From that man in the alley who pretended he was going to take you to your dead husband.” He steepled his blunt fingers. “From whomever is sending you text messages.”
The worry she’d been experiencing ever since she’d received that first text washed over her once again, and she clutched her stomach. The sudden pain in her gut could be from mixing mojitos and beer, but she didn’t think so.
“Ricky really isn’t alive?”
“No way.”
She took a slow sip of beer this time and licked the nutty taste from her lips as she considered this latest piece of news. Would this navy SEAL have any reason to lie to her...about this?
“I still don’t understand. Why am I in danger all of a sudden?”
Folding his arms on the table, he lifted his chin. “Why don’t you tell me what was in those texts?”
She dug her cell phone from her purse and skimmed through her messages. She stopped at the first one she’d received and read it aloud. “‘Where are the drugs? Where are the weapons, paloma?’”
“Paloma? Dove.”
“I-it was Ricky’s nickname for me. Nobody knew about that name. That’s why I believed that man tonight when he said Ricky was alive.”
“I wouldn’t put much stock in that. Ricky could’ve told anyone about it. Drugs and weapons? What do you know about drugs and weapons?”
She jerked back, putting more space between her and Josh’s intense gaze. He might be here to protect her, but he didn’t trust her.
She didn’t trust him either.
“I don’t know anything about drugs or weapons. I had nothing to do with my father’s business and didn’t even know his business until shortly before I was married.”
“Once you knew his business and your husband’s was drugs, why would you choose to put your son in danger by bringing him to that house?”
Gina crossed her arms, digging her fingernails into her biceps through the material of her silk blouse. She locked eyes with Josh, but this time the passion that kindled between them was anger, not sexual attraction.
She let a long breath out between her teeth that turned into a hiss. “It’s complicated.”
“And the other texts?” He sank back in his chair and sipped his beer.
“Same exact words, except the last message I received in the bar when you were in the restroom.” She pulled a crumpled napkin from her purse and flattened in out on the table in front of him.
“Clever. He must’ve been the one who bought us the drinks.”
She dropped the phone on top of the cocktail napkin. “My father was a drug dealer. I don’t know anything about weapons.”
“Do you want me to tell you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m not sure you want to know the truth.”
“Bring it.”
“Your father, and the Los Santos cartel, had started dealing with terrorists out of Afghanistan. In exchange for the product from their poppy fields, he was going to supply them with weapons...and passage into the US.”
Now she did feel sick.
She bent forward, leaning her forehead against the sticky table, her hair falling around her face. “I can’t believe he’d do something like that.”
And then she remembered what he’d done to her and she could believe it.
“Gina? Are you all right?”
Balancing her chin on the table, she peered at him through the curtain of her hair. “Not really. I thought this was all behind me.”
“Can you think of any reason why your father’s associates would be contacting you?”
“Is that who you think it is?” She blew the hair out of her face, as she raised her head.
“That’s a good possibility.”
“Could it be the Feds?” She splayed her hands on the table, wiggling her fingers. “Maybe they’re trying to trap me?”
“I think I would’ve been told, since essentially I’m reporting to the Feds.”
“The FBI? DEA? You’re working with them?”
“What did you say before?” He rubbed his knuckles across the stubble on his jaw. “It’s complicated.”
“But what you’re telling me is that if it was some federal agency trying to trap me, they wouldn’t have sent you out here to protect me from that agency.”
“Exactly.” He placed his hands over her restless fingers. “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions. Can you try not to go off on me? I’m just asking.”
Her gaze shifted to his broad hands covering hers. God, his touch felt good—warm, secure. She nodded. “I won’t go off on you.”
“Is there any reason why these people would think you know something about your father’s business? Did he give you any information? Leave anything to you?”
“There wasn’t much left.” She slipped her hands from beneath his. Unless you counted the bank account on Isla Perdida. The same type of account her father had set up for her mother when they split, the one Mom had been using ever since to fund her lifestyle. Blood money.
“They seized all his assets...and mine.”
“I’m sorry about that.” He drummed his fingers against his glass. “They must think you know something. They wouldn’t contact you, otherwise.”
“They’re sadly mistaken. Do you think I’m in danger from them?”
“You could be.” Sounding casual, Josh lifted his shoulders, but they were stiff, indicating anything but casual.
“Great.” She pushed away the mug of beer. “What was your original assignment? Get close to the grieving widow? Why the pretended interest in the property? Why not just approach me?”
His gaze floated over her left shoulder and she wondered if he’d heard her. Then his attention snapped back to her face. “I thought it might be better to get to know you in a nonthreatening way first. I did shock you with all these revelations, didn’t I?”
“Partly because I thought you were a mild-mannered programmer.” Although there’d been nothing to suggest Josh Edwards/Elliott was mild mannered in any way, shape or form—her gaze skimmed over the powerful muscles on display beneath his shirt—especially form.
“My instructions were to get close to you.” He cleared his throat. “This is a new type of assignment for me, so I wasn’t sure about the best approach.”
His lips twisted into a half smile, and her gaze lingered on his strong jaw imagining for a second what it would feel like to get close to Josh Elliott. Then she flipped her hair over her shoulder and said, “Honesty?”
“What?” The hand holding his beer mug jerked, and the amber liquid sloshed into small waves.
“I said you could’ve tried honesty in approaching me.”
He curled his hands around the heavy, beveled glass and stared into its depths. “You really would’ve been open to a navy SEAL on a secret assignment appearing on your doorstep?”
“It’s not like you were personally responsible for the deaths of my father and husband.” She rolled her shoulders. “Besides, I accepted you when you did tell me the truth, didn’t I? I mean, we’re sitting here sharing a beer.”
He held up one finger. “Ah, that’s because I saved you in the alley, and you were still shaken up. I’m not sure you would’ve been so...accepting otherwise.”
She screwed up her mouth and didn’t bother refuting him. The man in the alley had shaken her up and she hadn’t appreciated Josh’s intervention at the time. Now that she knew Ricky really was dead, she was grateful for his protection. This might be a new type of assignment for him, but he’d caught on quickly.
Digging her elbow into the table, she buried her chin in one palm. “How exactly did the Navy SEALs fit into the raid on my father’s place?”
“I can’t talk about that.”
“Okay, top secret.” She tapped her fingertips against her cheekbone. “What now?”
“Keep your eyes and ears open, and be careful. I’ll be here to look out for you until we can figure out why your father’s associates are trying to contact you.”
“If they tell me anything, I’ll be sure to pass it along to you.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Tell you anything? Why and how would they have the opportunity to tell you anything?”
As she studied his glittering eyes, a chill touched her spine. In that instant she had an odd sense that she was staring into Ricky’s eyes again. Josh’s expression contained that same single-minded ferocity that Ricky had, but surely, Josh had a passion for good and justice, not evil and greed.
“I mean, if they text me again or, God forbid, call me since they seem to have my cell phone number.”
Josh leveled a finger at her. “You’re not going to run off and meet anyone again, are you?”
“No. I just thought...” She glanced down and studied her fingernails as she trailed off.
“Ricky’s dead, Gina.”
“I know.” A single tear puddled in her right eye. Ricky had died a long time ago.
Josh slouched back in his chair and downed the rest of his beer. “Are you ready?”
She tapped her phone to wake it up, and the numbers of the clock glowed in the dark bar. “My mom’s going to think I had one hot date.”
“If you want her to think that, you need to take a couple of deep breaths. Your face looks—” he touched a finger to her cheek “—tight.”
His fingertip seemed to scorch her, to brand her. She sucked in a breath, and then shook her head. He was right. The events of the evening had taken their toll on her. The fear still had her senses buzzing.
“With any luck, my mother will be sound asleep and not lying in wait to ask nosy questions.”
“Did your mother have any contact with your father after the divorce?”
“Divorce?” She dropped her phone into her purse. “Your sources aren’t very well-informed. My mother and father never divorced, but they had very little contact after the separation.”
“Did they separate after she discovered his business, or did she know his line of work before they married?”
“Top secret.” Her lips formed a thin line, and she dragged her finger across the seam. If Josh, and the US government, didn’t know the details of her parents’ lives, she sure wasn’t going to inform them.
She still had to protect her mom.
Clasping her purse to her body, she pushed up from the chair. “I’m ready to go.”
Josh hopped up beside her and placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her out of the still-crowded bar. They spilled onto the sidewalk, joining the rest of the late-night revelers, stragglers from spring breaks across the country and snowbirds escaping the last ravages of winter in the Northeast.
A few steps later, and a popping noise had the press of people scattering and yelping in confusion.
Gina tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and stumbled off the curb. The cars in the street honked, as people surged into the road from the sidewalk to escape the firecrackers.
As Gina stood on her tiptoes to find Josh, she noticed from the corner of her eye a car peel away from the curb where it had been illegally parked. She turned toward the white sedan, and the back door flew open. A man lurched into the street and made a beeline for her.
Taking a step backward, Gina bumped into someone who wouldn’t budge. She put a hand out. “Excuse me.”
“Stop pushing, lady. Somebody’s gonna get hurt.”
“Yeah, me.” She twisted her head back around, and the man from the car was an arm’s length away.
Gina shifted sideways, but the man anticipated the move.
His fat fingers clamped around her upper arm and he almost lifted her from her feet as he dragged her toward the sedan.
She dug her heels into the asphalt. She was no match for him, but Josh was.
“Josh! Josh!”
As they got to the open door of the car, Gina grabbed onto the door frame. The big man peeled her fingers from the metal and twisted them back. She screamed amid another flurry of pops.
It was the driver of the car who’d been tossing firecrackers out the window.
Her abductor gave her a hard push from behind, and she fell face forward across the leather seats.
The man from the front seat growled, “Welcome back, Mrs. Rojas.”
