by Rebecca Deel
His eyes lit. “My pleasure, sweetheart.” He cupped the back of her neck and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Are you ready for today?”
“I don’t think that’s possible. I can’t think of much worse than planning my sister’s funeral.” Her voice choked off. “We were supposed to grow old together, you know? Raise our children together. Now, I’ll be raising Alexa myself.”
He bent his head and planted a soft kiss on her neck. “You aren’t alone, Rowan,” he murmured beside her ear. His warm breath and the timbre of his voice sent shivers cascading through her body. “I’ll always be here for you and Alexa. Do you want to go to the shop for a while?”
She pulled back, a smile curving her lips. “How did you know?”
Brent chuckled. “It’s pretty obvious, babe. We’ll go as soon as you’re ready.”
Minutes later, they left the safe house, driving toward Washington Village. She had to keep her livelihood going in order to support herself and Alexa. Whatever money she might inherit from Heather and Jay’s estate would be put aside for Alexa’s needs.
The entire drive to Coffee House, Brent held her hand, raising it to his lips every little bit to kiss her fingers. Brent Maddox was slowly capturing her heart, one kiss at a time.
The coffee shop was bustling with business by the time they walked in the door. Rowan frowned, realizing they were down one person.
Brent kissed her briefly and nudged her forward. “I’ll sit with Adam until you’re finished. We need to leave at ten o’clock for your appointment with the funeral director.”
With a nod, Rowan hurried to her office to toss her purse into a desk drawer and race back to the main room to help out. An hour passed before she took a breather.
“Don’t take this wrong. I’m thrilled to see you,” Lacey said. “But what are you doing here? Chase and I have this covered.”
“Didn’t look like it when I walked in. Where’s Trish?”
“Down with the flu.”
She groaned. Another worker bites the dust to the dreaded flu. If this kept up, Rowan might have to draft Brent and some of his employees to keep Coffee House running. “Please tell me you’re feeling healthy.”
“I’m fine.”
“So am I,” Chase chimed in. “We can handle the rest if you need to shove off. Kristi is coming in before noon and she agreed to stay until we close for the night.”
“I’m staying for another hour. You and Lacey take a break while you can.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Chase muttered. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Lace, you want to go with me?”
She shook her head. “I’ll stay here.” Her gaze scanned the street.
“Suit yourself.” Chase hurried out the door and down the street.
“Lacey, is everything okay?”
“I keep waiting for Frank to show up.”
“He’d be a fool to push Adam and Brent. They would enjoy taking him down. Trust me. They aren’t going to let him anywhere near you.”
“Rowan.”
She glanced at Brent, felt her muscles tighten at his grim expression. Without taking her gaze from his, she murmured to Lacey, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Rowan crossed to the table and sat in the chair he pulled out for her. “What’s wrong?”
“Adam decipered the rest of the code.”
“That’s good, right?” She thought Brent would be happy to know what the other half of that list said.
“It’s good Adam decoded the list. I want to know why Heather had a copy of a list of known international terrorists?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“International terrorists?” Rowan’s mouth gaped. “I don’t understand. I thought the list of terrorists was of the homegrown variety.”
Yeah, Brent had thought so, too. Turned out only half of the list was militia members. The other half was a group of international terrorists with a nasty reputation. Unfortunately, he and his operatives had run up against a couple of them in the last few years. “Think hard about anything Jay mentioned concerning his business associates.”
“He didn’t talk to me about his business.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice. “I tried not to spend any time in his company. Jay gave me the creeps.”
And he’d hurt Rowan. Brent hadn’t forgotten about her insinuation. He wished the man were still alive. He’d love to get his hands on the guy for what he’d done to Rowan and Heather, and maybe Alexa. “Did he or Heather mention his associates by name?”
She thought a moment. “Toby Minter and Nolan White. I don’t know anything about them except Jay was excited to work with them on a project, but I don’t know what the project was.”
More than likely, Zane had already run across the information online. Brent hadn’t had time to contact his friend this morning. “We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I need to borrow your office again. Do you mind?” The calls he needed to make couldn’t be done in a public space.
“Of course not. It’s unlocked.” Rowan turned to Adam. “Do you need more coffee, Adam? A pastry, maybe?”
“I wouldn’t say no to either.” He gave her his lopsided smile.
“I’ll be right back.”
As she hurried to the coffee bar, Brent turned his gaze to Adam. “Be straight with me. How do you feel?”
“I’m fine,” his friend said, his voice a growl. “I don’t know what’s taking that doctor so long to sign off on my return to work.”
Brent weighed what he’d seen when Adam had first been rescued from the hands of a sadistic drug dealer against the operative’s current status. He had to admit, the man had made a remarkable recovery despite his outward appearance. Cuts and burns had covered Adam’s body as well as deep-tissue bruising and a dislocated joint or two. He still had some plastic surgery ahead of him. “Would you tell me if you weren’t fully healed?”
“No, but I’m ready to go into the field, Brent. I wouldn’t put my teammates at risk by going on a mission when I couldn’t hold my own.”
“You don’t have a team any more, Adam.” The men he’d trusted to have his back hadn’t. Instead, they’d been split apart by the jealousy and manipulation of one of their members. As a result, Brent had fired the one subversive and split up Adam’s remaining teammates. If these men couldn’t make it with their new teams, they would be fired as well. The jury was still out on them, but Brent wasn’t impressed with what he’d seen to date.
The Marine’s face darkened. “I know,” he murmured.
“If I need you for the mission to rescue Alexa, can you handle field work?” He held up his hand to stop Adam from answering. “Rowan is mine which makes Alexa mine. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Adam was silent a moment, then he slowly nodded. “I get it. You can trust me with both of their lives. I won’t let you down, Brent.”
Rowan’s footsteps approached. She set a mug of steaming coffee and a plate with two different pastries in front of Adam. “Here you go.” She laid her hand on the operative’s shoulder. “Thank you for looking after my employees, Adam. And don’t bother to tell me it’s your job. You aren’t treating it like a simple job and I appreciate your care for my people.”
“If it takes one more worry off your shoulders, I’m happy to do it,” Adam said simply. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around to protect your sister.”
Rowan’s eyes glistened. “Me, too.” She turned away to return to the coffee bar.
Brent wished he could take the away the pain. There was nothing he could do except be there for Rowan and Alexa. Somewhere in the past forty-eight hours, Rowan had slipped into his heart. She was an amazing woman. He meant what he’d told Adam. Rowan was his. If she didn’t kick him to the curb, he intended to keep her and Alexa.
He stood. “I’ll be back.” He walked to Rowan’s office and shut the door, trusting Adam to protect Rowan. Brent pulled out his phone and called Zane. “What do you have for me, Z?”
“Nothing good,” hi
s tech guru said.
“Lot of that going around. Hit me.”
“Rumors abound on the Net about Maxwell dipping into the drug business.”
His eyebrows rose. “Drugs? We talking cocaine, heroin, pot?”
“All the above, plus Ketamine.”
Brent dropped into Rowan’s chair. “Ketamine? The drug used on animals?”
“That’s the one. Cheap to make and very profitable to sell.”
“Explains why Maxwell’s business made such a dramatic turnaround from one week to the next. Got a lead on who he was in business with?”
“Guess.”
Brent stilled, gut churning. “Navarro?”
“Give the man a cigar.”
This situation just kept spiraling downward. “How did Maxwell hook up with them?”
“One of his good pals introduced him to the head honcho while they were on a business trip to Mexico two years ago.”
Right around the time Rowan started Coffee House. Explained why the rest of the legit business owners were struggling at the time Maxwell was reaping huge profits. “Have you had a chance to research Maxwell’s associates?”
“Not yet. Had to run down information for St. Claire. Figured his search took priority since he’s headed into hostile territory with his team.”
“Are they still on U.S. soil?” Brent hoped not. The way things were heating up in Chihuahua province, St. Claire’s team wouldn’t have much time to do reconnaissance and plan a rescue.
“In the air. They should be landing at a private airstrip within the hour.”
He glanced at his watch. “Why the delay?”
“Accident on the highway prevented St. Claire from reaching the airport on time plus a delay before taking off. Heavy air traffic and a bad storm.”
“Rowan remembered the names of two of Maxwell’s associates.”
“Excellent. Who are they?”
“Nolan White and Toby Minter. I want to know everything about them, including how long they were associated with Maxwell and where I can find them. If the Navarro cartel is after Rowan, I need to know.”
“Copy that.”
He sat back in Rowan’s chair, sighed. Not good. Too much activity was centered in Navarro territory. What were the chances the connection to the cartel was a coincidence? Nil. How fast would the lieutenants and head of the cartel connect Rowan to Brent?
His cell phone signaled an incoming call. Brent checked the screen. “Mr. President.”
“Tell me your team is on the ground.”
“Within the hour, sir. They’ll need to do some recon before they’re ready for the extraction.”
“Understood. Anything else I need to know?”
“The Navarro cartel is probably the group targeting the Alvarez family.”
“How do you know this? There are several strong cartels around that area.”
“Lucero is in the center of the Navarro stronghold, Mr. President. They’re also well known for targeting families to pressure officials of Mexico and other countries to cooperate with their agenda.”
“You know these people?”
“We’ve tangled with them before. They hate Fortress, sir.”
“I see. Did you run into them in your military days?”
“Yes, sir. They’re not fond of the SEALs, either.”
Martin chuckled. “I can imagine.”
Brent hesitated a moment, then said, “Sir, this situation is becoming more complicated. I have a personal connection with this mission.”
“Explain.”
“A man named Jay Maxwell and his wife, Heather, were murdered two nights ago here in Nashville. Heather was the sister of the woman I’m dating.” Brent didn’t know how else to explain the relationship, despite the fact he hadn’t managed to take Rowan on even one date. So far. He intended to change that as soon as people stopped tracking, chasing, or shooting at them. He looked forward to learning about the woman behind the sunny smile and beautiful eyes. “Heather and Jay’s six-year-old daughter has been kidnapped and now it appears the same people are after Rowan.”
“Why?”
“Heather left a flash drive in Rowan’s safe keeping. One of my operatives decoded the file which contains two lists. One is a list of militia leaders with their own agenda.”
“And the other list?”
“International terrorists. We’ve encountered a few of them, Mr. President.”
“How dangerous are these men, Brent?”
“I’d kill them on sight, sir.”
“What’s the connection between the militia groups and the international terrorists?”
“Not sure yet. We’re working on that.”
“And the connection between the Maxwells and the cartel?”
“What else? Drugs. All the big ones plus Ketamine.”
A pause, then, “Hold on, Brent.” A moment later, the president returned. “I have to go. Keep me informed of any further developments or new intel.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brent slid his phone deep into his pocket as a light tap sounded on the door.
Rowan poked her head inside. “Okay to come in? I need my laptop to place orders.”
“Of course. Thanks for allowing me to use your office.” He crossed to stand in front of her. “You look tired, babe.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Comes from not sleeping much for two nights.” Her gaze dimmed. “I don’t know how Heather did this. She told me of nights when my niece couldn’t sleep because she was sick. I usually volunteered to spend a night to let Heather sleep.”
“How did that go over?”
“About like you’d expect. Jay wouldn’t hear of it. He said that was Heather’s job.”
Brent scowled. “He never helped out, did he?”
A sad laugh escaped. “Not hardly. Jay made Heather move out of the master suite so she was closer to Alexa. He didn’t want to be bothered with his own daughter crying in the night or waking up with a nightmare. Guess he figured since Heather didn’t work, she could handle being awake all night and all day. How will I handle nights like these with Alexa? I have to work, Brent.”
“You’ll figure it out one day at a time, baby. Remember, you aren’t alone. I want to help.”
Rowan’s cell phone signaled an incoming call. She checked the screen. Her face lost all trace of color.
“Rowan? What’s wrong?”
She opened her mouth to respond, couldn’t.
Brent clasped her upper arms. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”
Instead of answering, Rowan turned the phone so he could see the name on the screen. Heather.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rowan’s body trembled as she held up the phone for Brent to see. Someone was calling her with Heather’s phone. The kidnappers? That was the only thing that made sense. Heather had called her with her cell phone right before she was shot. In the craziness following Heather’s death, Rowan hadn’t asked if Detective Taylor had found her sister’s phone. The homicide detective didn’t need to use Heather’s phone to contact Rowan.
Her gaze locked with Brent’s. “What do I do?”
“Answer the phone, but put it on speaker.” He ushered her to the seat behind her desk. Good thing, too. Rowan was pretty sure her knees were ready to give way.
Following Brent’s instructions, she tapped the speaker button. “Rowan Scott. Who is this?”
“Doesn’t matter who’s speaking. What matters is that I have your niece. If you want to see her again, you’ll do exactly as I say.”
Brent motioned for her to keep talking as he grabbed his phone and texted someone. Probably Zane or one of the other tech people at Fortress. “How do I know you have my niece? I want proof that she’s alive or I’m hanging up and calling the cops.”
An aggravated growl came through the phone’s speaker. “Hold on,” the man snapped. There was some fumbling, then footsteps indicated the caller was on the move.
At the growing sound of a child crying, Rowan clam
ped a hand over her mouth. Tears burned her eyes. Alexa. Rowan would recognize her cry anywhere.
“Talk to the kid. Can’t guarantee she’ll say anything,” the man grumbled. “All she does is cry.”
Tears slid down Rowan’s cheeks. “Alexa?”
A gasp between sobs. “Aunt Ro.”
“Are you all right, sweetheart?”
“I want Mommy,” Alexa sobbed.
Brent pulled Rowan into his arms.
“She’s not here, baby.” Oh, man. Listening to her cry broke Rowan’s heart. She leaned against Brent’s chest. “I’ll see you soon, though.”
“Please come get me, Aunt Ro. I want to come home.”
“It won’t be long, Alexa. I promise.”
Alexa’s voice faded as the caller moved farther away from the girl.
“Satisfied?”
Rowan took a few seconds to try and steady her voice. She refused to let this criminal know how upset she was. She didn’t know anything about dealing with the criminal class, but it just seemed logical to not give this guy the upper hand. “What do you want?”
“Maxwell’s records.”
Rowan stiffened. Records? Did he mean the flash drive? That wasn’t exactly a record in her mind. It was a simple file and not one worth killing for. Brent squeezed her, a silent warning to be careful what she said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Jay didn’t confide in me. We barely tolerated each other.”
Silence greeted her statement.
Guess she’d surprised the kidnapper. What on earth was he looking for if not the file that Heather had left in her care?
“Records of transactions,” he snapped.
Rowan frowned. Seriously? He thought Jay Maxwell would have left anything like that with her? This guy obviously didn’t know Jay all that well. “If I had them, I’d give them to you. I don’t care anything about Jay’s business. I just want Alexa back safe.”
“Then you better find those records. You have forty-eight hours. Find them or this pretty little girl will disappear forever. And no cops, lady.” The call ended.
Her gaze locked with Brent’s. “What am I going to do? Alexa’s life and safety depend on me finding these records. I don’t know what he’s talking about or where to start looking. Jay hated my guts. He’d never trust me with sensitive information.”
