by Rebecca Deel
Eli reached over his shoulder and patted her hand. Her doubts about him still rankled. She was the only woman who had caused the slightest stir of interest in months, yet she didn’t fully trust him, half expecting him to be a PTSD head case. Couldn’t say that he blamed her. Maybe she wouldn’t be so doubtful about him if he hadn’t spilled his guts about not being able to sleep most nights without ghosts from the past visiting him in his dreams. He hated his leftover issues from the military, but he couldn’t change it. Time was helping some, creating a much needed distance. Talking to his dad, he knew he’d never be totally free of the ghosts.
He also hated to bring Brenna with them for whatever mission Jon had in mind, but he hated even more to leave her to her own devices. She needed protection and asking Cal to be on guard duty meant an explanation his friend was better off without. Eli figured the bozo who attacked Brenna was still in the area and might make another try for her and Dana’s recording, not to mention the fact his sweet romance writer had a penchant for trouble with a capital T. He wouldn’t put it past her to go out investigating on her own, even at this ungodly hour.
He shook his head. Even his thought processes were convoluted this early in the morning before a cup of coffee, especially since he’d been up all night searching Russell’s place and questioning the less than cooperative bar manager. Where was a Starbucks when he needed one? Any other time, he passed coffee shops on every street corner.
“Russell volunteered the name of a doctor who might be persuaded to share some information.”
Eli’s eyebrows lifted. “Volunteered, huh? Should I worry about a visit from Cal in the near future?”
“Russell has a scratch. He’s probably had worse paper cuts.”
He grinned. Jon knew a lot of ways to make a man tell every secret he knew from childhood on. For that matter, so did he. Jon, however, seemed to take great pleasure in his work when it involved righting a wrong to an innocent woman. “Who is the doctor?”
“Guy named Sam Wilson. Russell claims he checks the girls for health issues.”
“Health issues?” Brenna echoed. “You mean he checks them for diseases?”
“That’s right.”
“But that’s . . .” Brenna stopped.
“Inhumane? Cruel? Sounds too much like buying a horse or cattle? A necessary assurance for the buyer?” Jon glanced over his shoulder at her. “Yes, Brenna. All of the above.”
“But he’s a doctor. He’s sworn to protect human life, not make sure the girls are fit for a life of virtual slavery.”
“Doesn’t make him any more inhumane than the rest of the garbage involved in Scarlett’s Beauties,” Eli said. Noticing a Starbucks sign, he flipped on his turn signal and exited the interstate. His stomach rumbled in anticipation of the bracing brew. He prayed the caffeine did its job.
“Pit stop already?” Jon sent him a wry grin. “Told you to take care of business before we left home, son.”
Eli chuckled. “Sorry, Dad. We need coffee before interrogating the villain. I image Brenna does, too.”
“Make it the largest cinnamon latte they have,” Brenna said.
He and Jon exchanged horrified glances, but said nothing. He had never met a latte he liked. Plain Joe for him and the rest of his black ops buddies. Eli pulled into the drive thru and placed their orders. Within minutes, he cruised down the entrance ramp, once again headed for Murfreesboro, sipping steaming black coffee.
By the time the sun crested the horizon, Eli parked in front of Sam Wilson’s large Georgian-style home. Also in the drive sat a late-model Mercedes SUV and a Hummer. Guess the Scarlett Group’s payoff money came in handy. His lip curled. The physician’s gravy train was about to derail. “How do you want to play this?” he asked his partner. “Does the man have a family?”
“Wife named Catrina and two little girls, ages six and nine.”
“Does the wife work?” Brenna asked. “Maybe the kids are at daycare already.”
Jon shook his head. “No record of her working recently. Seems she’s been happy to be a stay-at-home mom since her first daughter was born.”
“We don’t want to frighten those kids,” Eli said, weighing their options. The idea of scaring them made his stomach twist into a knot. He glanced into the backseat. “Do you have a recent picture of Dana?”
Brenna dug through her purse for her wallet, removed a 3 x 5 picture from a plastic protector and handed it to him.
He and Jon checked their weapons and got out of the car. Brenna scrambled from the backseat onto the concrete drive. “Stay behind me, sugar. The man’s got a lot to lose in this game.”
“I thought you weren’t going to scare the little girls.” She stared at the P226 in his hand. “That’s not a normal part of a doctor’s black bag.”
Jon grinned. “We have a medic on our black ops team who would disagree with you. He never goes anywhere without one of those. Says he feels underdressed if one of these babies isn’t within reach.”
Eli grabbed a lightweight jacket and pulled it on over his black t-shirt and jeans. He slid the weapon into his shoulder holster. “Better?”
Brenna nodded at Jon. “What about him?”
“We’ll make sure the kids don’t see his gun.” Eli led her up the walkway to the porch. “One of us needs a weapon ready, Brenna. We don’t know how Wilson will react when we confront him. I can tell you it won’t be good. Question is how bad will it get and will it attract enough attention to bring the police?”
He climbed the stairs and pressed the doorbell. Eli motioned Brenna to stand behind him while Jon took position on the other side of the door frame, out of sight unless one of the Wilsons came out of the house.
A beautiful Latino woman opened the door and smiled. “Yes, can I help you?”
For a moment, Eli regretted the necessity of tearing her world apart. Then he remembered the terror Dana endured. The regret vanished. “Mrs. Wilson?”
“Do I know you?” Puzzlement showed on her face.
“No, ma’am. I need to speak with your husband.”
“He’s getting ready to leave for the hospital. He has rounds in a few minutes. Can’t you make an appointment with his office?”
Eli shook his head. “I won’t take much of his time, Mrs. Wilson, but this is a matter of life or death.”
Catrina Wilson frowned, her concern evident. “I’ll get him. Would you like to come in?”
“No, ma’am. I’ll wait out here for him.” Squealing laughter sounded from another room. Eli smiled, the noise reminding him of Christmas mornings with his nieces and nephews. “I don’t want to disturb your family.”
“He’ll be right out.”
A couple of minutes passed before heavier footsteps heralded the doctor’s approach. A middle-aged man, medium build, unremarkable brown hair and eyes stepped into view. “My wife said you have some kind of emergency. What’s going on?”
How had Wilson managed to capture the beautiful Catrina? He didn’t seem the type to garner the interest of such an exotic beauty. “Step outside with me, Dr. Wilson. I don’t want to disturb your wife or your daughters.” He slid his jacket aside enough so the good doctor got a look at the weapon at his shoulder.
Wilson paled. “Please, don’t hurt my family. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Sweetheart, is everything okay?” Catrina Wilson said, a few feet behind her husband.
“I only want information, Doc,” Eli said softly. “I would hate to scare your wife and daughters.” His tone left no doubt that despite his words, he would do just that if the doctor didn’t cooperate. Dana’s safety was at stake.
Sweat beaded on Wilson’s forehead, his eyes trained on the gun at Eli’s shoulder. “Everything’s fine, honey. I’ll just be a minute.”
“You promised the girls a pillow fight before you leave for the hospital.”
“Catrina, please.” His voice cracked. “Go take care of the girls.”
“This won’t take long, Mrs. Wilson,�
�� Eli said. With a firm grip on the lapels of the doctor’s jacket, he drew Wilson out onto the porch. He nodded his thanks to the uncertain woman and closed the door. They couldn’t do what they needed with a delicate audience and they didn’t want her calling the police before they obtained information to help them find Dana before the clock ticked down to zero.
As soon at the door shut, Eli covered the peephole with one hand and crowded the doctor against his front door. The man’s eyes widened when he noticed Jon and his gun to his left, boxing him in place.
“What do you want?”
“Not what, Doc. Who. I want Dana Cole.”
The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know anyone named Dana Cole.”
“Wrong answer, Dr. Wilson,” Jon said, his voice a deep, angry growl. He stepped close enough that the physician pressed his back tighter against the door. No place to hide from Jon Smith. “If you want to keep those beautiful little girls healthy, come up with a better answer.”
“No, please. I’m telling you the truth. I don’t have a patient with that name.”
“She’s not a patient.” Eli showed Wilson Dana’s picture. “I know you recognize her, Doc. For the sake of your wife and daughters, you want to rethink your answer.”
The physician’s eyes closed for a moment. When he opened them again, resignation and fear warred for dominance in his gaze. “You don’t understand. They’ll kill my family.”
“Yeah? They aren’t here, but my friend has a weapon pointed at your gut. Trust me, Doc, he’s very good with it. Maybe you should think about which danger is more immediate. How did you get involved with the Scarlett Group?”
“Bad luck. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I left the hospital late one night. A van pulled up to the emergency room entrance. The driver asked if I was a doctor. I thought he might have a relative or friend inside who needed emergency assistance. I went closer. The passenger grabbed me and stuffed me in the back with a gun in my face. He tied a blindfold over my eyes until we reached some farmhouse out in the country.”
“Why did they grab you?” Jon asked.
“One of the girls had a bad cut that was infected.”
“How was she injured or did you even bother to find out?”
“Of course I asked. Do you think I’m heartless?”
“You don’t want me to answer that question, Doc.” Jon smiled, more a baring of his teeth since it lacked any warmth.
Wilson swallowed hard. “One of them put a gun to my head, so I quit asking. I had one goal. Survival. I did what I could for the girl, kept my head down and prayed they wouldn’t kill me before the night was over.”
“It’s obvious you survived. Why didn’t you call the cops?”
“And tell them what? I didn’t know where they took me. How could I help them find this girl again? Besides, they took my wallet while I worked on the girl. Do you understand what that means?” Wilson’s voice fell to a whisper. “They know where I live. They know about Catrina and the girls.”
“You sure?” Eli asked, dragged the doctor’s attention back to him.
“Money is wired to my bank account every month. I haven’t spent a penny of their blood money, but they also send pictures to my personal email account. Recent pictures of my daughters along with the going price for girls that age. I didn’t have a choice. I have to protect my family and I didn’t know what else to do.”
A white van drove past the house at a snail’s pace. Jon watched the vehicle until it turned the corner. He glanced at Eli, his expression granite.
Eli’s stomach knotted. Great. Jon suspected something was off about that van. Maybe more trouble had followed Brenna, but he didn’t spot a tail earlier. He wanted to believe he or Jon would have noticed a vehicle, considering his quick, unexpected stop at Starbucks. No one had followed them off the interstate. That early in the morning with so little traffic, trailing headlights attracted attention.
If this vehicle belonged to someone in the Scarlett Group, he and Jon had just brought more problems to Wilson’s doorstep, the kind that could land more innocents on the auction block or in the morgue. Not something Eli wanted to add to his nightmares.
In his head, Eli heard the ticking clock eroding Dana’s safety margin. “We might be able to protect your family, Doc. First, what do you know about Dana? When did you see her?”
“Two days ago.”
Behind Eli, Brenna gasped. “Where? Is she okay?”
Startled, Wilson peered past Eli’s shoulder. “Who are you?”
Eli tensed, wondered if Brenna would remember his instructions not to mention names. If he contacted the right people, Wilson wouldn’t be a threat to Eli’s security or his team. However, people in the witness protection program often created problems for themselves by refusing to change their habits. Eli couldn’t see the man not continuing to practice medicine and doubted if either of the Wilson’s would be willing to give up all ties to their families. If Wilson fell into the wrong hands, the less he knew about Eli and Jon, the safer it would be for them and their team.
“I’m looking for Dana, too.”
Eli’s muscles lost some of their tension. Smart girl. He should have known Brenna would keep her wits about her. “Stay focused, Doc.”
“Ms. Cole was fine when I saw her.”
“She won’t be for long,” Jon said. “Scarlett Group has a countdown clock running on her. We have a little more than 24 hours to find her. You want us to protect your wife and daughters. We’re willing to do that. For a price. Dana. Will you help us find her?”
“I want my family’s safety guaranteed.”
“No such thing as a guarantee in this business,” Eli said. “We’ll do the best we can. We know people who are the best at protection. They can be here within the hour, but we need something from you first. Where is Dana?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Brenna’s heart pounded against her chest wall. Adrenaline flooded her system. Were they finally getting the break they needed to find Dana? She prayed they’d find her sister before anything more happened, something from which Dana might not recover. Just thinking of the horrors Dana might be going through made Brenna’s stomach lurch.
“I don’t know,” Wilson said.
Blind fury roiled in her gut. Was the little weasel holding out on them? Why? Money? She pressed her lips into a tight line. For a few seconds, she contemplated asking Jon to make Wilson talk by any means necessary. She knew SEALs were quite capable of getting whatever information they needed. Maybe she should turn the guys loose and return to the car.
Her eyes narrowed. Then again, maybe not. Dana was her sister. Nobody loved Dana as much as she did. “How can you not know where she is?” Brenna pushed past Eli to confront the physician. “You said you saw her two days ago.”
“I told you the truth. I did see her, but I didn’t see where she was being held. I’m still blindfolded every time they take me to check the girls.”
“You’re lying.” Hands clenched, she beat on his chest until a steel band wrapped around her waist and lifted her away from her target. “No.” Brenna fought against the restraining arm, determined to force the information out of the cowering doctor if he wouldn’t tell them voluntarily. It didn’t matter to her if he refused to talk from fear or lack of conscience. “Let me go. I have to make him talk. He knows where she is.”
Eli clamped a hand over her mouth and carried her squirming body around the side of the house. In some distant corner of her mind, Brenna realized she was making such a scene, they’d be lucky if some neighbor didn’t call the police to help the doctor and cart off the deranged woman on Wilson’s doorstep.
A moment later, Brenna found her back against the Wilson’s brick wall, Eli’s hand still pressed over her mouth, his face inches from hers, dark eyes blazing with fury. She fought harder. She had to get free.
“Stop it, Brenna.” His hard body pressed against hers and forced her into absolute stillness. “Are you hearing me?”
/> Lips pressed into a tight line, jaw clenched, she nodded, alert. She needed a small opening, a distraction of any kind. Nosy neighbor or dog, anything to give her a chance to return to her target. Wilson knew more than he was saying. Dana’s life hung in the balance. Nothing stood a chance of getting in her way, not even her drop-dead gorgeous Navy SEAL.
“Listen up, sugar girl. If you don’t get a grip right now, we will spend the next several hours in a police station instead of tracking your sister. We need every minute and lead available, even lousy ones like the doc might give us. We won’t get anything from him if he thinks you’re a straight-jacket candidate or he’s afraid you’ll rip his face off and hurt his family.”
Eli’s intensity, his words, penetrated the red fog clouding her mind. The blinding rage sweeping through her moments before dissipated, left shock in its wake. Good grief. What had she been thinking, attacking the doctor that way? Maybe she was crazy. That was the only logical explanation available for trying to outsmart and outmuscle a SEAL. Make that two SEALs. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the brick, panting from exertion. Guess the fact that Eli hadn’t hurt her showed the measure of his control. She hadn’t been thinking at all, simply feeling. All the pent up fear and frustration had exploded and created a firestorm out of her control. And here she’d been concerned about Eli’s PTSD issues. Looked like she was the one that needed help.
“I’m going to lift my hand from your mouth. So help me, if you start screeching again, I’ll kiss you until you shut up and the neighbors assume we’re in a heavy-duty make-out session in broad daylight. Am I making myself clear?”
Brenna’s eyelids sprang upward. She tried to smile, couldn’t because of his tight grip. Eli must have seen the smile in her eyes or realized the tension in her body had vanished. He eased the pressure on her mouth until he lifted his hand clear and slipped it beneath her hair, cradling the back of her neck.
“Are you okay now?” he murmured.
She nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Eli tugged her into his arms, squeezed her tight. “You scared me but good, baby.”
