Dangerous Deceptions: A Christian Romantic Suspense Boxed Set Collection

by Lisa Harris

  Nicole pushed from the wall.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I thought I’d walk around the hangar. I don’t remember seeing anything of interest around here while we were in the air.”

  They exited the hangar and hiked around the building, then ended up kicking at pebbles next to the small plane. A dry breeze blew over him. The sound of an approaching vehicle drew his attention. He hoped he saw Jillian in the white van, but if he didn’t, he had no plan of action.

  Maybe he would have to fly today after all. “Get in the plane.”

  Curiosity kept her cemented where she stood. She released an incredulous laugh. His voice had been firm, revealing his concern. She understood his reasoning—if someone intended harm to them, they had no protection. At least in the plane he could potentially. . . fly?

  Dust kicked up behind the vehicle speeding toward them. “I’m pretty sure that’s Jillian, and I think she might be in a hurry.” Then again, she was accustomed to fast driving.

  He pressed a hand to his forehead to shade his eyes. “It’s her. She’s speeding. I have a feeling she’s on the run.”

  The van skidded to a stop. Jillian hopped out.

  “Hurry!” She shouted. “I need your help with the paintings. They’re big, and this is going to be tight. Help me load them.”

  “You had some trouble, didn’t you?” Reg asked.

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I walked in on Enrique on a call. By his responses, I knew that Chameleon had contacted him to warn him I might try something. But I had my handy Taser, and I got him. I duct-taped him. We need to hurry. I’m not sure if he’ll get out of that or someone will let him out, but we need to be off their radar, literally, by the time he’s free.”

  “Nicole,” she said, “get into the plane. I’ll hand this up to Reg, and he’ll hand them back to you.”

  “I can do it,” he said. “I’ll sit in the back and hold the paintings.”

  “It needs to be Nicole,” Jillian said. “She’s small and will have more room.”

  Nicole climbed into the back seat and took each of the two paintings. The painting took up most of the back, and Nicole leaned against the window.

  Jillian did the pre-flight check, seeming to take her time after that rush she’d been in, but Nicole wouldn’t fault her for being careful. Their lives depended on it. Finally Jillian climbed in to pilot the plane. The noisy Piper engine drummed in Nicole’s ears as the plane accelerated along the airstrip and lifted. Beneath them, Nicole looked at the road that Jillian had taken from the airstrip and hangar.

  “See that car?” Jillian pointed as she tilted the plane.

  Nicole could barely twist to look out the window.

  “That’s Enrique. He escaped somehow. Maybe the housekeeper showed up. I don’t know. But that means he’s had a chance to tell Chameleon what happened.”

  “In other words, they’re on to us,” Reg said.

  Nicole wanted to lean forward, but she couldn’t shift the painting around, so she raised her voice above the engine’s drone. “But do they know where we’re headed?”

  “I doubt it,” Jillian said. “But Chameleon could be connected to what happened at your grandmother’s house, indirectly.”

  “How?” Reg asked.

  “Think about it. Imagine the dark web chatter. Black market stuff. So . . . we know that Harriet’s abductor, your Keaton Rhodes terrorist guy, wants the paintings for a buyer. Rhodes supplies the paintings to the collector and then will be repaid the money he believes Reg took from him. The other side of this same coin is that Chameleon had been approached about the Darrow paintings by a collector. Only his inner circle knows. That includes me. Why do you think we just happened to have forgeries tucked away in Montana?”

  “I had wondered. So are you thinking that the same collector is involved here? Trying to get the Darrow paintings from whoever can provide them?” Nicole considered the possibility.

  “Yes, it would make sense. Two have been forged already.” She glanced at Reg. “We didn’t know where the other two were. But your guy did. Your man figured out they belonged to your Grandmother.”

  “Yeah. He said he’d looked into my family and came across the history of the paintings.”

  “Obviously, he’d conducted reconnaissance and had known at least one of the paintings was at your grandmother’s.” Nicole shifted uncomfortably beneath the forgeries.

  “And obviously it appears Rhodes also knew about the Chameleon’s forged Darrows and that you were in a position to get them,” Jillian said. “How, I’m not sure. But it could be Rhodes got wind of the collector connecting with Chameleon over the Darrows. Chameleon is in the business of connecting paintings with buyers.”

  “You mean multiple buyers for the same original,” Reg said.

  “Exactly. There can only be one original, but these days it’s hard to know what is original and what has been forged. Several private collectors will believe they have authenticated and paid for the privilege of owning a particular original painting for their private collections. My assignment has been to document and gather evidence. It’s been terrifying . . . since I’m his fiancée.”

  Nicole had tried to ignore that nuance in Jillian’s voice every time she said the man’s assumed name.

  “Jillian, do you have feelings for him? I know what it’s like to work undercover. Relationships are developed. You can get close to people.”

  “And then betray them,” Jillian muttered. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already betrayed him.”

  “Why did you give me the intel? Why did you send us to The Blue Door?”

  “I had no control over the cell phone when you called. A jealous woman who has been suspicious of me snatched it up and put it on speaker. You asked the questions, and I had to say what was required of me so I wouldn’t be suspected. You asked about those paintings, and Chameleon does teach art lessons. He’s also a chef—he dabbles in many art forms, a rather brilliant man, actually. But since the club was private and members only, I knew you wouldn’t have access. I had no idea you would be allowed in because . . . you look like me. In fact, I had planned to contact you as soon as I could.”

  “How did you know we were there?” Reg asked.

  “Simple. I entered through the back door and overheard someone telling Chameleon that I was there with another man.” Jillian glanced at Reg. “And of course, the whistle-blower was the very woman who has been suspicious of me. She was the one who snatched my phone to listen in on your phone call. She wanted to cause Chameleon to doubt his relationship with me.”

  Nicole’s informant—her sister—had been invaluable in potentially putting all the pieces together. Now all they had to do was trade the paintings for Harriet. Oddly, the heaviness lifted from her shoulders.

  The small plane’s engines buzzed and vibrated and eventually Nicole closed her eyes. She might as well rest until they get to the island.

  Jillian landed the plane once to refuel, then took off again for Ketchikan, Alaska.

  Nicole stirred just in time to look at lush, green trees, rolling hills and mountains. Islands everywhere. Beautiful, waterways.

  “We’re here,” she whispered.

  Jillian communicated with the small airport tower then landed the plane smoothly. Nicole’s sister might have kept a few secrets from her—and she wouldn’t let them remain—but Nicole couldn’t help but feel proud of all Jillian had accomplished. Nicole just hoped there wasn’t a catch to it all. Some dark, sister secret that Jillian held back.

  Jillian taxied the plane to where she was directed to park, then powered down. “Okay, guys. I don’t know if Chameleon is going to track down this plane. He has contacts in the strangest places.”

  “I’ll rent a vehicle, using my alias,” Reg said. “We’ll put the paintings in the trunk and then find a hotel or some place to wait for Rhodes to contact me.”

  “Sounds good,” Nicole said. “We have time to regroup and catch our breath before t
he real action begins. Harriet’s cruise ship doesn’t dock until early tomorrow morning.”

  Jillian opened the door. “See? We made it in better time than you thought.”

  “I just hope nothing goes wrong,” he said.

  Nicole wanted to reassure him. “We’re going to get Harriet back, and that, thanks to your help, Jillian.”

  “Nicole’s right,” Reg said. “We’ve made it, thanks to you.” He scratched his chin. “All of this business rolling around Chameleon, I need to ask—what’s his real name?”

  Jillian sighed and shifted around uncomfortably near to the wing. “You’ll find out sooner or later anyway. His name is Dominic Guerrera.”

  Her boyfriend from college? Blood rushed from Nicole’s head. Why would Jillian betray the man she’d always loved?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Early the next morning, Reg stared out the third-floor window of a hotel in the tourist-driven Alaskan panhandle town. From his window, he could see the berths where two cruise ships had docked. But not Grandmother’s. Her Princess cruise ship slowly approached, sending his heart rate skyrocketing.

  Now that he was this close, he fisted and re-fisted his hands.

  Grandmother.

  He’d tried to call her, but she never answered. Nor had he heard from her abductor. What did that mean?

  Come on. Give me something. Call me.

  Jillian and Nicole sat at the small desk where Jillian drew a diagram.

  Reg’s cell buzzed. “It’s him.”

  Sweat bloomed on his palms.

  “Well, what does it say?” Nicole jumped up to peer over his shoulder.

  “It’s an image of Grandmother. She’s smiling and happy. I don’t think she knows she’s in danger.”

  A text came through.

  Show me what I need to see.

  Reg texted him an image of the two paintings—Spring and Fall—they had set up in the hotel room, anticipating he would want to see the paintings.

  Then waited for a response.

  Nicole touched his arm. “After everything Jillian shared, I think she’s right. He never expected you to steal from the museum. He’s a mastermind and has had a master plan. He’s keeping tabs on us and knows my connection to Jillian and her connection to Chameleon.”

  Waiting on this guy to respond would drive him nuts. “You’re forgetting the man who followed us, the armed men at Grandmother’s house. Doesn’t sound like a master plan to me.”

  “Maybe it’s like Harriet told us—they wanted the painting, and didn’t need the two of us tracking the stolen painting down or preventing them from taking the one that remained in the house.”

  “I’ll buy into that,” Jillian said. “Rhodes got the two paintings, but things shifted. The collector decided he wanted all four. What’s he going to do now? He sees you going into The Blue Door—isn’t that when you got the message?”

  “He texted while we were in the hotel, before we’d gone to The Blue Door. But while we were at The Blue Door, that’s when he leveraged for the next two paintings. He knew. . . he somehow knew that Chameleon was his competitor. Chameleon would have those paintings.”

  “I told you.” Jillian shrugged. “Bottom line, this guy wanted you to get those two paintings from Chameleon so he could sell them to the collector—whoever he is—and get the money. Sounds like this Rhodes guy could even have someone on the inside of Chameleon’s organization. What a tangled web.”

  Reg plopped into the chair. “You’re right. He is a mastermind. That’s why he runs an organized conglomerate. And . . . I almost had him.”

  Reg stared at his cell again. What was taking so long? When he heard nothing more, he texted again.

  Where do we make the exchange?

  I assume you’re in Ketchikan because you’re a smart man and you know that’s where your Grandmother will be. Based on that assumption, I’ll contact you soon. After we meet, I’ll hand over the two I have, and then you’ll deliver all four paintings to the collector, who will then transfer the money to me. Then you’ll get your grandmother.

  I plan to hand off the two paintings and collect my grandmother.

  Reg cringed inside at what he was about to do. He hoped and prayed it would work. The dark side of this endeavor would leave him facing the repercussions from the FBI. He had been investigating while on leave, had worked undercover while on leave, now tried to negotiate with an abductor without contacting them, and was transferring forged paintings.

  Another image of Grandmother appeared on his cell.

  She’s happy now. If you want her to stay happy, I suggest you do as I say. Otherwise the next image will be of her suffering.

  Anger and fear formed a knot in his gut. He typed, You touch one hair on her head, hurt her in any way, and you’ll answer to me.

  “Don’t send that.” Nicole snatched the cell from him.

  “What are you doing?” Reg grabbed her wrist and held it. He extracted his cell from her grip.

  “Nicole is right, Reg,” Jillian said. “You threaten him, your grandmother could pay for it. He could let you know who is in control. Right now, he’s in control, but don’t challenge that.”

  The words soaked in. He nodded. Released a slow breath. “Right, you’re right. But I don’t like his tactics.”

  Nicole grabbed his free hand. “Agree to what he wants. We can make a plan for Jillian and me to get Harriet.”

  He replied to the text, reassuring the man that he would deliver the paintings to a collector, and asked for the details.

  Thank you for your cooperation. The collector will validate that the paintings are real—he has an expert there to authenticate them— before he pays me. Stay tuned.

  Well, the fact that the collector would validate the authenticity before completing the transaction messed with their theory that Keaton Rhodes, Grandmother’s abductor, had expected Reg to steal forgeries from Chameleon. Reg slowly lifted his gaze from the cell. In other words, if any one of the paintings was a counterfeit, he could lose Grandmother. He knew for a fact that at least two of them weren’t originals.

  Nicole shared the same fear she saw in Reg’s eyes. Would these two paintings pass muster?

  She and Reg both looked at Jillian.

  “I did my best, guys,” Jillian said. “The abductor might need the documents of authentication for the collector. But know that these particular paintings fool the experts. We have no choice but to keep going forward.”

  “Agreed,” Reg said.

  “In the meantime,” Nicole said, “we’ll devise a plan to come up alongside Harriet and rescue her. She appears to be enjoying her time on the cruise. When the ship docks here, she’ll get off with the other passengers, that is, if Keaton is keeping with his strategy and Harriet doesn’t seem to realize her predicament. But she won’t be alone. Someone connected to Keaton will be with her, guarding her, so we plan for that.”

  Jillian crossed her arms. “Or she might not leave the cruise ship. She might be held captive there. We’ll have to figure out how to get on that ship if she isn’t among the tourists disembarking.”

  “I don’t like this,” he said. “You could get hurt.”

  Nicole moved closer and pressed her hands on his shoulders. “We’re in this together now. Your grandmother is the one in imminent danger. Trust us to help you save her. You can’t do it all alone.”

  “I know. You’re right.” He stood up, and Nicole dropped her hands. “I need to get Grandmother out of that situation no matter what. She’s vulnerable.”

  “Jillian and I can do that for you.”

  “You don’t have a gun,” he said.

  “That’s all right.” Jillian grinned. “I have two.”

  She reached into her big bag and pulled out two handguns and handed a Glock nine-millimeter over.

  Reg’s eyes had grown almost as wide as Nicole’s must be.

  “What about your negative reaction to my gun earlier back at the club when you said,”—he held up his fin
gers as quotation marks—"‘These are forward-thinking people. Progressives. People don’t like them.’? And what about your Taser?”

  “That was Jillian, Chameleon’s fiancée. This is Jillian, Harriet’s rescuer. We have to change to fit the situation. I kept these in my briefcase in the sportscar. Come on, once you learned I was an undercover agent you had to know I would have guns somewhere.”

  “Whatever. I would prefer you didn’t need those,” Reg said. “But after what we’ve been through in the last day, I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “Agreed. In the meantime,” Nicole said, “if Jillian and I are going to blend in, we need to dress like the tourists coming off that cruise ship. I’m still in this ridiculous getup.” She waved a hand over the blue dress. “I wish we had gotten here before the shops closed last night. But they’re open now. You can text as soon as you get the details for the tradeoff. We’ll hurry back up and help you.”

  Reg gripped his head like he was in torment. Or was it another headache?

  Nicole approached and pulled his hands away. She pressed her palms against his cheeks.

  Determination surged in his gaze. He would get his grandmother back, she had no doubt about that. But he was torn in too many directions. Without thinking, Nicole pressed her lips against his. To reassure him? To distract him from his worries? Or maybe for a reason far more selfish. She stepped back, dropping her hands from his face.

  He studied her, his brown eyes intense.

  I never should have pushed you away.

  “I don’t mean to interrupt,” Jillian said, “but we need to get going.”

  Nicole searched his gaze. The longing she saw there curled around her heart. Reg gave her a quick half smile, then he stepped back.

  “I need an answer from you.” Reg directed his words at Jillian. “Who have you been working with in this sting operation?”

  “I’ve already done enough to help you. I’ve already stepped all over it.”

  “Then there’s no reason to keep it from us. Is it the FBI?” he asked. “Because, if it is, Grandmother’s fate could already be sealed if any of this gets back to the wrong person. Someone tipped off Rhodes that I was undercover, and given my suspicions about my boss, that someone is in the FBI. And then, someone took the money.”