by Rebecca Deel
Chad Elliott’s hair was cut over his ears and off the collar. No piercings or tattoos visible. A polo shirt and non-holey jeans with pristine white running shoes completed the image of a young man with a goal in life and a plan to meet said goal.
Chad leaned back against the picnic table, his gaze focused on the ducks swimming in the nearby pond. “The Friday she disappeared. We had lunch together before she went to work.”
“Did she seem okay?”
The teen dragged his gaze back to Eli. “What do you mean?”
“Was she upset or worried?” He waited, noting the tightening of the boy’s jaws. Chad’s gaze returned to the ducks. Hmm. Eli sat next to him. “Look, Chad, you can tell me anything. I’m not a cop or a relative. I’m looking for a friend and I think her disappearance may be tied to Julie’s.”
“Who’s the friend?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
“Dana Cole.”
Chad’s head jerked around. “Dana’s missing, too?”
“She disappeared almost two weeks ago. Do you know her?”
“Spoke to her a few times when I picked up Julie after she finished work. Dana’s a nice lady. Helped Julie get her job at Sartelli Construction when no one else would give her a chance. She didn’t want to work at a fast food place. Julie worried about burning her hands.”
“I thought she had a car of her own.”
“Mrs. Lynch’s car is unreliable, so sometimes she would drive Julie’s Beetle to work. I’ve been on Mrs. Lynch’s case to get something newer, but she’s afraid to go car shopping. Julie’s dad took care of the car stuff from the time he and her mom started dating.”
“I see. Back to my question, Chad. Was Julie upset or worried at lunch that day?”
The teen’s gaze dropped to his feet. “Yeah. I upset her. It was my fault.”
“Yeah? What happened?” Eli glanced at the nearby picnic table where Brenna sat, working on her computer. He scanned the area. The back of his neck itched, the kind of itch he paid attention to on missions. Nothing caught his interest, but the feeling didn’t fade. He needed to end this interview pronto and take Brenna to a safer location.
“I wanted to move our relationship to a new level.” The flush in Chad’s face deepened.
A flash of sympathy rolled through Eli at the boy’s embarrassment. Had to appreciate the careful way he phrased his statement as well. He’d bet no locker room trash talk came from this kid. “Julie didn’t?”
“She wanted to wait. Said we weren’t old enough, that she wanted a wedding ring on her finger first.”
Eli nodded. “Smart girl. You tell the police?”
Silence greeted his question at first, then the boy turned to face him. “I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
Another silence.
Eli watched the ducks paddle around the pond and dive for bread dropped on the water by a few kids. “Were you afraid the police might be right, that Julie ran away because of you?”
“Yeah.”
He decided a change of topic was in order. He’d tortured the poor kid enough about that subject for now. Didn’t suppose he’d want to discuss that sensitive topic with the cops either. “How do you feel about Julie’s plans for college?”
Chad relaxed, shrugged. “Fine. We both want to attend Vanderbilt University next year.”
“Is that right? You okay with her planning to be a doctor?”
The boy shot him a wary glance. “Sure. Why shouldn’t I be?”
“That’s quite a lofty career goal. Won’t leave much time for a boyfriend over the next few years.” Eli twisted to face him. “Most guys your age would have a problem with that. Do you?”
The first real smile curved Chad’s upward. “No more of a problem than Julie will have with it. I’ll be studying medicine, too.”
“Good for you. You guys choose a specialty yet?”
“Julie plans to be a surgeon. I want to specialize in pediatrics. Kids have their own brand of magic. Nothing gets them down for long. They just sort of bounce back, even when they’re sick. I want to be part of keeping them healthy.”
Yeah, he got it. His nieces and nephews dispensed that magic on him whenever they were in the same room. Somehow they silenced all the ghosts. Eli stood and held out his card. “Thanks for your time, Chad. If you think of anything that might help, call me.” He shook the teen’s hand. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think Julie would run away from you and the relationship issues. Got a feeling she’s too smart to do something like that. From what I’ve learned about her from you and her mom, Julie’s got enough self-confidence and career focus to kick you to the curb if you pushed too hard.”
Chad smiled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks, Mr. Wolfe.”
After the teenager left the park, Eli scanned the area again. Needles still pricked the back of his neck. Not good. Time to get Brenna out of the park. “Let’s go, sugar.”
“Can you give me a minute or two? I need to finish this paragraph.”
“Hurry. Something isn’t right out here, but I can’t pinpoint it.” He quartered their surroundings, positive someone watched, maybe with a scope. It never paid to ignore the sensation burning his skin, almost as if a laser sight focused on him.
“Got it.” Brenna took out her flash drive and bent over to slip it in her purse.
A flash of light caught Eli’s attention. Reacting without thinking, he dove for Brenna and slammed her to the ground, his body covering hers.
The echo of a gunshot splintered the afternoon quiet.
CHAPTER TEN
Brenna tried to raise her head, but found it impossible to shift her more than 200-pound special forces protector enough to see what was happening. Her brain kicked out of slow mode and replayed the sound in her mind.
Holy cow! A gunshot?
Eli’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. “Are you okay?”
Brenna managed to turn her head and froze. Eli’s voice was rock steady as was the hand holding the gun inches from her face. Did nothing ever rattle this SEAL? “I’m fine. You?” Her own voice sounded a little breathless. No doubt the result of her heavy SEAL cover rather than flying bullets. If he could be unaffected by a bullet, she could at least do a credible job of acting like she had it together instead of admitting she wanted to run away screaming.
“Don’t move.”
She scowled. She couldn’t do more than breathe at the moment. Good grief. Eli Wolfe’s muscles must be made from pure steel. The guy put out some serious heat, not a plus on this scorching July day. “Is the shooter gone?”
“I think so.”
A couple of college aged men raced toward them. “Hey, you guys okay?”
“Yeah,” Eli said. “Did one of you call the cops?”
“I did,” the red haired man said. “They should be here in a few minutes. You don’t look so good, man. You sure you’re okay?”
Brenna twisted hard.
He grunted. “Hold still, sugar.”
“Let me up. Right now, Wolfe.”
As soon as Eli eased his weight from her back, Brenna scrambled to her knees. Blood dripped down the side of his face and galvanized her into action. “You,” she said, pointing to the shaved head man. “Go to McDonald’s and get some napkins.” As he sprinted across the park, she turned to Red Hair. “Keep watch for the police. Send them over to us as soon as they arrive.”
Eli eyed her from the ground, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Any instructions for me?”
Brenna shoved aside the smoking remnants of her laptop. “You are in hot water, Wolfe. You getting shot was not part of my service package. Sit on the bench and shut up.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little, sugar?”
“Overreacting, huh? Someone shot at us and got lucky enough to hit you. Blood is streaming down your face and the shooter got away. Does that pretty well sum up the situation?”
Eli’s mouth twitched as he seated himself with his back to the p
icnic table. “It’s just a scratch.”
“Here you go, lady.” Baldy handed Brenna a stack of napkins and a bottle of cold water. “You might need this.”
“Thanks.” After pouring liquid onto a napkin and handing the bottle to Eli, she wiped the blood from his face with one hand while using the other to apply light pressure to the wound on his head.
“It’s not as bad as it looks, Brenna,” Eli said.
“How do you know that? You don’t see your head. You might need stitches or something.” Her voice shook. Brenna firmed her lips. She hated to sound scared, but she was terrified for Dana, Eli, Jon, and herself. Someone could have been killed. Later, when she could process everything in private in the shower, she’d deal with the fact someone tried to kill her.
“Head wounds always bleed a lot. Trust me, sugar. This is a scratch.”
She swallowed hard and finished cleaning his face before meeting his gaze. He sounded sure. How could he be? He didn’t see the ghoulish mask, the perfection of his features marred by a curtain of blood. Then again, she reasoned, if the wound were deeper or more serious, they wouldn’t be having this bizarre conversation. “Voice of experience, I take it.”
Eli shrugged.
What had she expected from a SEAL? Anything short of a life-threatening wound might not merit more than his cursory shrug. At that moment a couple of patrol cars skidded to a halt near Red Hair. Behind them, an ambulance pulled in.
When the EMTs drew close, she tried to move away, but Eli grabbed Brenna’s hand and tugged hard. “Sit right here beside me. You don’t go anywhere without me, remember?”
“I’ll get in their way.”
“Tough. They’ll have to work around you.”
The determined expression on his face forestalled more protests. For the next few minutes, she, Eli, Red and Baldy answered questions for the police while one of the EMTs worked on Eli’s head wound.
As the EMT put away his medical supplies, Brenna asked, “Anything in particular we should do about this injury?”
“He needs to contact his doctor as soon as possible. Your friend probably needs antibiotics to prevent an infection.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Eli said. He grinned at Brenna. “Told you, sugar. The bullet just kissed me.”
Right. Her stomach knotted at what might have happened if the gunman’s aim had been more accurate. Based on the police questions, she figured they planned to write this up as a drive-by shooting. She knew better and wondered why Eli hadn’t bothered enlightening them. Didn’t he trust the Nashville police?
She decided to keep silent for the moment and waited for the questions to end, the patrolmen to leave. In the meantime, she studied the remains of her laptop. She foresaw a trip to Best Buy in her immediate future. With the balance of her bank account nearing a critical stage, she would have to settle for an inexpensive computer. All she really needed was Internet capability and a word processing program. Everything else could wait.
After questioning her one last time and admonishing both of them to call if they remembered anything new, the police left. Brenna held out her hand to Eli, wiggled her fingers. “Keys.”
Eli’s eyes narrowed. “You want to drive my car?”
“Humor me, tough guy. Give me the keys or I’ll call Jon or your detective friend. Think of me as your own personal chauffeur for a few hours. You can tell me which way to go in between the phone calls.”
“Chauffeur, huh?”
“I promise not to get a scratch on that beauty.”
“Do I get a reward for letting you drive my pride and joy?”
Brenna snorted. “Get real. It’s transportation.” She squelched a grin at his immediate scowl. “But since you spilled buckets of blood protecting me, we might negotiate. What’s the price for babying your car?”
“Three signed copies of your latest book and a date with me.”
“We already had a date, remember?”
“Dinner at Red Lobster doesn’t count. That was camouflage. I mean a real date where I don’t have to watch our backs for tangos or kidnappers.”
“Deal. Now hand over the keys.”
Eli tossed her the keys with a chuckle. “Wow, if I had known it would only cost a little blood to get a date with you, I would have offered up half a pint sooner.”
Tears blurred her vision. “Don’t, Eli.”
“Hey.” He stepped in front of her and folded her into his arms. “Everything is going to be fine. I’d say we’re on the right track, sugar. Someone doesn’t want us nosing around asking questions about Julie’s disappearance and we’re almost positive Dana’s disappearance is connected to hers. Just hang in there with me.”
“They could have killed you. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m hard to kill, baby. Trust me. Men a lot more dangerous than these guys have tried to take me out and failed.” He shepherded her to his car. “Let’s get out of here. The clock’s ticking.”
Eli pulled on a fresh polo shirt, damp hair clinging to his head. He leaned closer to the bedroom mirror and inspected the two-inch long gash marking the side of his head. He grabbed his cell phone and called Jake Davenport, one of the Zoo Crew’s medics. Eli had a stash of antibiotics in his Go bag. All Fortress operatives carried medical supplies in their bags along with the requisite tools of their trade. Maybe he’d get lucky and the meds needed would be in his bag. If not, he figured Davenport would have the meds he needed handy.
One ring and a deep voice mumbled, “Davenport.”
Eli explained the injury to the medic and answered a barrage of medical questions before his teammate named an antibiotic and dosage standard in all their kits. “Thanks, D.”
“Lucky you have a hard head, Wolfe. How’s Jon?”
“Getting there.”
“Hey, man, you’re not talking to Maddox. I hear Jon’s threatening bodily harm to any operative who doesn’t deliver information at the speed of light. What gives?”
Eli leaned one shoulder against the wall and eased the curtain aside to check the perimeter for changes. “Friend of ours was kidnapped ten days ago. Got a deadline approaching fast and almost zero leads.” Lengthening shadows added the need for a slower scan. Still nothing.
“A woman?”
“Yeah.”
“His?”
Eli started to say no until he remembered the interesting revelations from his partner. A new phone for Dana, notes, phone calls. All under Eli’s radar. Jon might consider Dana his. Not sure their beautiful friend felt the same way. “Maybe. The worst part is she’s probably in the hands of human traffickers.”
Davenport whistled. “So it doesn’t matter whether he’s ready for another op.”
“No.” Muscles twitched in Eli’s jaw. “We’ll do whatever is necessary to free her.” No matter the cost. They weren’t going to lose anyone else to human traffickers.
Jon parked his black SUV under heavy shade and shut off the engine. Not many lights worked on this street so his vehicle faded into the gloom, making it close to invisible to the casual observer. Suited his purposes. Jon didn’t care who knew he was searching for Dana. He didn’t want Eli caught in the backwash if he needed to use extreme measures in uncovering information to rescue Dana.
He wouldn’t leave her in enemy hands, not like his former Zoo Crew teammate had left him months ago. His jaw tightened and anger boiled at the memories punching through the mental barrier he’d built to contain those unforgettable days he’d spent as a guest of terrorists. He still had the scars as a reminder.
Jon reached up, shut off the overhead light, and opened his door. According to Maddox’s source, Eric Thomas lived two blocks over in a house inherited from his mother. Rumors in the underground said he helped his mother on to her eternal reward. Told him what kind of person he was dealing with. Scum of the earth. No surprise since he had some connection to human traffickers. Jon scowled. Lot of people he’d become acquainted with over the years in relation
to his jobs on and off the books were more interested in money than people.
He scanned the deserted street. Jon slipped into the shadows and walked through a stinking, garbage-strewn alley. On some level, he registered a sour taste in his mouth from the stench. At the mouth of the alley, he paused in the deepest shade, listening, observing. Satisfied he’d attracted no attention, he moved forward, crossed barren yards and plunged into yet another alley.
Minutes later, Jon eased over a wooden fence into Thomas’s back yard and remained motionless, listened in vain for sounds of a pet. Good. No dog. He’d brought hamburger meat laced with a sleeping drug safe for canines, but he would have been guessing at how much to give a dog weighing less than a hundred pounds.
He shifted his attention and observed the dark house. No movement, no lights. The intel indicated Thomas was at home most Monday nights for a weekly poker game with his buddies. Game didn’t start until nine o’clock. It was only seven o’clock now. Left him two hours to learn what he needed. His mouth quirked. Plenty of time.
When full dark cloaked the surroundings in an impenetrable gloom, Jon crossed the yard and unscrewed the single light bulb burning by the door. He hoped Thomas or a neighbor would think the light had burned out.
He removed a set of lock picks from his jacket pocket and, within seconds, heard the satisfying snick of the lock giving to his tools. No alarm, either. His lip curled. Guess the man figured his bad-boy image would protect him from being the target of a crime.
Not today.
After a cursory search through the residence showed nothing except an appalling lack of cleaning skills, Jon settled down to wait in the darkened living room, lights disabled. He spent the time fitting the pieces of Dana’s disappearance together as if working a jigsaw puzzle. Each time memories of his time as a prisoner of terrorists interrupted the puzzle assembly, he shoved them back behind the mental wall and resumed manipulating pieces of data. He would find Dana no matter how long it took. And when he did, he’d begin the long, slow process of winning her heart. Knowing now what she’d been through, he figured that was the only type of campaign that gave him a shot with her. And he wanted that shot with a passion. Dana was special, well worth any amount of time it took.
