by Meryl Sawyer
“Any messages?”
“Call Keke.” Ane croaked out the words.
“Christ! I was supposed to call her when we got in last night,” he said to Devon. “With everything going on I forgot.”
“I’m going to go in to the office and do a little work,” Devon said.
They walked over to his desk, and he whispered, “I think you should stay here.” He didn’t want to let her out of his sight until Olofson and his cronies were in jail.
“I’m just across the way. I have a lot to do. I can’t just sit around here.”
He thought about it for a moment. “I’m going to call your cell phone.” He pulled his cell phone out of the small black leather zipper case where he kept the DoD gadget and the disk. He punched autodial.
She reached into her purse and pulled out the phone that was ringing. She pushed “talk.”
“Leave it on,” he told her. “That way I can hear if anything’s happening.”
“Okay.” She dropped it into the pocket of her sundress and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “See you later.”
Chad watched Devon leave, thinking how much he loved her. He smiled to himself. He couldn’t believe he was actually thinking about settling down. He’d assumed that his nieces and nephews would be substitutes for his own children. He’d changed his mind. He wanted his own family with Devon.
What did she want, other than staying alive? He could have asked her while they’d been waiting for the money to come into Naples, but he hadn’t. There had to be a man back in Houston who was waiting for her. He’d felt he would be taking unfair advantage of the situation if he pressed her now while she was in danger.
Tremendous stress like this created a false sense of intimacy. He needed Devon to decide if she wanted him and a life here in Hawaii. Given she’d been away for almost a year and a half, it might take her some time to know her true feelings.
One thing was certain. He would have to get used to calling her Samantha. Did she go by Samantha, he wondered? Maybe friends called her Sam. There was so much he didn’t know.
He picked up the telephone to call his sister and noticed Ane was still on the telephone. She’d made a call shortly after they’d come into the office. He was too far away to hear what she was saying. She was probably ordering office supplies or something. He punched the second line on his phone and made the call he was dreading.
It still wasn’t safe to tell his sister the truth. He hated lying—especially to her.
KEKE’S CELL PHONE RANG as she was leaving Chinatown, heading home. Caller ID told her it was Chad. Guilt surged through her. She took a moment to steady herself. She’d done the right thing. Protecting her family had been her only option.
“Hello, Chad.”
“Sorry I didn’t call. We got in late—”
“Where are you?”
“At the office.”
Keke knew Ane must have called the FBI agent the second Chad walked in. That’s what they’d agreed to do. Let the pros handle Devon and Chad. It was easy to say, but now, knowing her brother might be arrested, Keke’s eyes filled with tears.
“Thanks for wiring the money. My friend told me she received it.”
“G-glad to help.” She made herself ask, “Were you with Devon?”
“Yes. We were in Kauai.”
How could he lie like this? Devon Summers had murdered a man in Miami. Chad must have been with her—or at least known about it.
“I know you don’t like her, Keke. You would if you knew her.”
She couldn’t make herself say a word. Her brother had lost it, truly lost it.
“I love her,” he said, his voice low. “When I see you, I’ll explain all about the money.”
“I’m not far. I’m coming over now.”
Keke hung up and pulled to the curb to steady her nerves. She’d ratted on her brother. The least she could do was be there when they arrested him. She would have to get an attorney, post bail. Who knew what other help he would need?
“YOU KNOW,” Brock told Kyle. “I knew those women would come through.”
They were standing on the deck of the Blarney, the fifty foot DeFever motorboat their local rep had secured for them. It was moored at the end of a gangway in Ali Wai yacht basin. There was an unoccupied boat on one side of the Blarney, the other side was open water. Across from them was a boat that was for sale. No one was on it, either.
After checking out Langston’s mansion—there must be big bucks in dive shops—and finding no one home, they’d come here. That’s when the hog mama, Ane, had called. Devon and Chad had turned up. Devon was in an office by herself.
How lucky could he get? The bitch was less than a block away. Finally things were going right.
DEVON STARED at the computer screen. She had a big wedding coming up the following weekend. It wasn’t as large as the extravaganza at Chad’s, but there were going to be almost as many people. It was being held on Eddie’s newest yacht, Long Tall Sally. The dingy, Short Fat Fanny was going to be filled with doves. At sunset, they would be released, circle the boat once, then fly toward Diamondhead. It was an expensive gimmick, and she hoped it worked.
A man with spiked hair and a sports coat walked through the open door.
“I’m sorry. We’re closed. I’m just catching up on some paperwork.”
“This will only take a minute.”
He reached toward the small of his back. A second later she saw the gun. She knew she should have gone by her locker and picked up her own gun.
“Don’t,” she cried.
“Too late, babe.”
He shoved a towel in her face. It was rank with a chemical-like smell. She tried to push it off her nose, but the room began to blur, then faded to black.
CHAD LOOKED UP and saw Keke coming into his office. His sister looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. Was one of the children sick?
“Keke, is everything okay?”
Keke looked at Ane. The older woman shuffled through her desk without greeting Keke. A warning voice whispered in his head. Something was wrong.
Keke sank into the chair beside his desk. The same blue eyes he saw in the mirror every morning were blurred with tears. More alarm bells began to ring. Keke rarely cried.
“Are the kids all right?” he asked.
Keke nodded, tears cresting in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I had no choice. Believe me.”
Chad jumped out of his chair and came around to where his sister was sitting. He hunkered down beside her so they were eye level. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She wept out loud, rocking back and forth in the chair. Chad tried to hug her, but she pushed him away. She turned and asked Ane, “W-where are they?”
Ane’s voice was barely a whisper. “I called them.”
“What’s going on?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
For a moment no one said anything. Keke’s body was racked with silent sobs. Ane kept rumbling through her desk drawer, never looking at them.
“Th-the FBI,” Keke said, tears seeping down her cheeks. “They were here.”
It took a second for the words to register. FBI. Here? “What did they want?”
Keke squeezed her eyes shut but tears kept leaking down her face.
Ane said, “They’re after Devon. She killed—”
Chad jumped to his feet and grabbed his cell phone. It was on the desk next to his computer terminal. He held it up to his ear but heard nothing.
“Devon! Devon!”
“She killed an FBI agent and two innocent men,” Keke said.
“No, she didn’t.” Chad dashed for the door. “She’s in the Witness Protection program. Those weren’t FBI agents. They’re a hit team.”
The door to Devon’s office was shut but unlocked. No one was inside. The back door was ajar.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
BROCK GAZED at the unconscious woman Kyle had carried into the yacht’s main cabin. She didn’t look like much, he thought. Slim. Bl
onde. How could one woman have caused so much trouble?
“The ether should wear off in about ten minutes,” Kyle said.
Ether, the forgotten drug, Brock thought. Once it had been the anesthetic of choice for hospitals doing surgery, but it had been replaced by newer medications. He’d found it handy over the years. It could be carried in a small vial and poured onto a washcloth to sedate someone in a matter of seconds.
Kyle had carried the bitch here, pretending she was drunk and needed help getting back to their boat. Luck was with them once again. Kyle hadn’t met anyone as he’d hauled her to the yacht.
“Did you check her purse to see if the disk was in it?” Brock asked.
“It wasn’t there. You don’t honestly think she’d walk around with it in her bag, do you?”
Brock shrugged. “With women, you never know.”
The woman moaned almost inaudibly. Brock leaned forward. This bitch had been nothing but trouble since the first day he’d been introduced to her at PowerTec. His gut instinct had told him then this bitch would cause endless problems.
How right he’d been.
Too bad Cassidy and Olofson hadn’t listened to him. No. They’d waited until the FBI called in an agent to check out their books before they believed him.
He should have gotten credit for figuring it out, but no. He’d suffered endless blame for the problems this woman had caused. He was going to relish every minute this bitch suffered.
Devon blinked and the world around her whirled. She closed her eyes again, willing her brain to make things level. Where was she?
Her office. The man with the spiked hair.
She sat bolt upright. The spiked hair guy was gazing at her from a chair opposite her.
“Feeling better?” asked a nearby voice.
Devon turned and saw a short man with dark brown eyes on the sofa next to her. A quick scan of the room told her that they were on a boat. Where was Chad? Couldn’t he hear any of this on her cell phone? It should be acting like an open microphone.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“On a boat.” The man’s words sounded terse as if he’d ground them out a syllable at a time.
“I remember you,” she said. “Brock Hardesty with Obelisk.”
CHAD HEARD THE WORDS “on a boat.” How far could they be? he wondered. He’d checked on Devon only a few minutes ago. She’d been keyboarding on her computer.
“Chad, what do you mean? Is Devon a protected witness?”
“Absolutely. Those men weren’t from the FBI. They’re going to kill her.”
He barely heard his sister’s sob. He knew Devon was on a boat, and she had to be nearby. Not enough time had elapsed for anyone to have taken her very far. Her cell phone was still transmitting. The DoD gadget, he thought.
“Chad, I’m sorry. I thought—”
He barged by Keke. The only way he could find Devon was with the DARPA device. If she was in the harbor, he could scan each boat and see where people were. Of course, there was a problem. The device might pick up people as dogs or boats or mechanical objects. Still, it was his best option.
He pulled the scanner out of the leather pouch.
“I want to help,” Keke said.
“Call the local FBI office. Ask for Warren. Tell him some men impersonating FBI agents have kidnapped Devon.”
He dashed out of the office to get the Beretta he kept on the seat of his SUV. On the way out, he passed a redhead. She was probably going into Aloha. People never expected them to be closed Monday and Tuesday.
“WE’VE COME FOR THE DISK,” the kid with the spiked hair told Devon. For emphasis, he aimed a gun at her temple.
“I haven’t got it.”
“You know where it is.”
Devon didn’t see any point in denying it. “I looked at the disk and didn’t see anything interesting on it.”
“It’s encrypted.”
“What’s on it that’s so important? Look at all the people who have died because of it.”
The kid said, “We’re asking the questions here.”
She cleared her throat, pretending to be on the verge of tears. “If I’m going to die over it, I have a right to know.”
She was stalling. Surely Chad would be here shortly. The kid still held a gun. Brock probably had one, as well.
Brock scanned her face critically. “Smart gal like you should have been able to break the encryption.”
“Or get someone to do if for you,” the kid added. “You had it long enough.”
“I didn’t know it was valuable. The agent the FBI sent to PowerTec said it was worthless.”
“She knew it was worth a fortune. Just before the FBI went to investigate PowerTec, the company hired experts to remove the confidential material. We didn’t check the keystroke logger on Rutherford’s machine soon enough. You’d made a copy, but you’d disappeared.”
“I had this all wrong,” she admitted. “I thought Rutherford and Ames were after me.”
“Pussies. Both of them. Rutherford was cutting a deal with the prosecutors.”
“That’s why you arranged for the plane accident.”
“It was easier than sending a team after them. Besides, fewer questions are asked if there’s an accident.”
Devon hadn’t cared for Rutherford and Ames, but they had families, wives, children, parents. A death impacted so many people.
“What’s on the disk that is worth so many killings?” If she kept them talking, Chad would have more time to find her.
The kid said, “Don’t tell her.”
Brock rolled his eyes and stared up at the boat’s teak ceiling. “Why not? She’ll be better off dead so she might as well know what she died for.”
The kid shrugged. “It’s your show.”
“The disk has information on Obelisk, the men running it, links to our sources in the military. It also shows where the money is stashed.”
“The Cayman Islands. I learned that much when I was at PowerTec.”
“It doesn’t really matter where the money is. Who’s getting the money is what’s important. Some of our highest military leaders are profiting from the scheme.”
“I called the FBI because I could see from PowerTec’s records that they were cheating the government. Short orders. Inferior parts.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” He spoke without a hint of boastfulness. “Now where’s the disk?”
Her mind had been scrambling over what to say. She didn’t want to send them to Chad’s office. His secretary could get hurt. She didn’t want to give them the copy in Chad’s safe, either. If anything happened to her, she wanted the truth to come out.
“It’s in a safety deposit box at First Honolulu Bank.” It sounded logical to her. Where would a woman on the run hide a disk? She did have a deposit box there, but it had extra cash in case she needed to disappear.
Brock studied her for a moment. “Did you make any copies?”
“Nope.”
“Don’t believe her,” the kid said. “Get the truth out of her.”
Brock nodded. “Let’s get the disk first. Then we can have a little fun. We don’t want to walk into the bank with a bloody mess on our hands.”
“Good thinking.”
Where was Chad? He should have found her by now. It was a long trip to the bank. With luck she would have an opportunity to get away from them.
Running in a zigzag pattern was her best bet. WITSEC had told her that even an expert shot hits a moving target less than fifty percent of the time.
“Ahoy there! Permission to board,” called a woman.
“Who the hell is that?” Brock asked. “Take a peek through the blinds.”
All the blinds were down throughout the vessel. Evidently they didn’t want anyone who happened by to look in.
The kid peered through the miniblinds. “It’s a redhead. A real looker.”
“Get rid of her.”
The kid headed for the door.
“No
. Wait a minute. Ask her name.”
The kid stuck his head out and asked her name.
“Jordan Walsh.”
Brock couldn’t help smiling. The two women who’d made his life miserable were with him now. Killing two women and dumping them at sea was going to be the ultimate high.
Wait a minute! How did the bitch find him?
“Let her in.”
Devon watched as a stunning redhead in yellow shorts and a lime green blouse walked in. She had Chad’s device in her hand. How had she gotten it away from him? Had she killed him for it?
“Hello, Brock,” she said with an alluring smile.
“How’d you find me?” He didn’t sound the least bit thrilled to see her.
“I brought a little present for you.” She held up the test gadget. “Infrared locator. It works great in the day and even better at night.”
“Worthless piece of shit. I had one and it didn’t work.”
“That’s because I disabled it.”
“And you installed a keystroke logger on my PC.”
“Just keeping track of things. “She blessed Brock with a sweet smile.
“Who do you work for?” He snarled out the words.
“Bash Olofson.”
“Bullshit!”
“He’s testing you. Bash has been unhappy with Cassidy for some time.”
“Figures.” He turned to the kid. “Do you know her?”
“No, but I’ve been in the Middle East for the last two years. Sounds like Uncle Bash. He’s always complaining about Cassidy. He sent me to learn your job so you can take over for him.”
Unfuckingbelievable, he thought. This whole time he thought he was going to get the axe because he’d lost Samantha Robbins twice.
Kaboom! The boat rocked hard and a shuddering sound rumbled up from the engine room.
Brock asked, “What the hell was that?”
“An explosion,” Jordan said.
The kid added, “I smell fire. We’d better get out of here.”
“Jesus! Just what I don’t need.” He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Devon. “No funny business.”
Devon saw this as a chance to get away. She stepped out of the boat. People were running down the gangway to see what had happened.
Jordan said, “Better put the guns away. Cops will be all over this place.”
