Beachcomber Trouble

by Stephanie Queen

  “Damn it—Why?” Shana said louder. She shifted on her feet. The two henchmen with guns drifted back a half step. They probably hadn’t even realized it.

  “The oldest motive in the book.”

  “You fool,” Henrique said.

  “Maria.” Dane spoke quietly. “There was never anything—”

  “Save it, cowboy. It didn’t matter what you thought, how you felt, what you said or did. She was in love you, see. And she wasn’t going to change her mind. So I let her stay with you that night. She wanted to be there, you know. No amount of reason or sense could talk her out of it. She wanted to be at the takedown by your side. I knew she was a lost cause. I knew you did … nothing.”

  Shana nearly shrieked, “Then why are you after Dane now after all these years you crazy bastard?” Her gun moved up and down, but never wavered off target, only choosing between his head and his heart.

  Floyd shrugged. “Because I’m not a stupid man, I’m a patient man.” He turned to Henrique. “Because an opportunity presented itself. I was working with Tavares on a project—to help me fund my impending retirement—and he talked about you Shana. He wanted you for his prize. He had special plans for you. So when Oscar told me you were partners with Dane it all fell into place. Practically fell into my lap.”

  It was time to pull the plug on this melodrama. Dane knew they had more than enough to convict Floyd and he’d turn on Henrique and company in a flash since he already had. Floyd had gone off the deep end. Officially. Now Dane only needed to signal their back-ups.

  He figured they’d come in the back door since they witnessed the takedown of the back door guard, the standoff and the confession. At the same moment Dane was about step backwards, he heard the unmistakable sound of a trigger partially engaging. It was Shana’s gun. That small but monumental sound caused Henrique to take his eyes off Floyd. More importantly, Dane observed from his peripheral line of sight that the two sentries also turned their attention to Shana.

  The sudden lurch into jackhammer speed of Dane’s heart made him swear to himself. He hit the panic button on his watch and counted to three in his head.

  First, the back door banged open loudly. Second, Henrique’s two men spun toward the back hall, guns pointing. And third, but almost simultaneously, Dane wrapped an arm around Shana and pulled her to the floor with him. As he did this he heard Oscar and Cap shouting and he saw Floyd jump to his feet and go for his gun. Henrique stayed where he was.

  No way was Dane going to let Floyd shoot straight. He jumped to his feet and pushed Floyd back over his chair, shoving the man’s shooting arm as Floyd took his shot. It hit the ceiling. At the same time, the two sentries started shooting in earnest and Henrique took to the floor, knocking the table over for cover.

  The Tavares men from out front stormed inside and both Dane and Shana scrambled to get into shooting position. Between them, they managed to put the two men down without killing them. Dane hit the shooting arm of one of the men and Shana hit the other man’s gun from his grip, seriously tearing up his hand in the process.

  When Dane turned to check on Floyd, he saw that Oscar had him by the collar, but before he realized it, before he had a chance to react, he turned back and saw Henrique attempting to get Shana in a chokehold and wielding a knife as he dragged her toward the front door. Dane stopped thinking and let instinct take over his actions.

  Gaining his balance, he lunged forward and caught up with Henrique as the man turned toward the door and was about to push outside while Shana struggled against him. Where the hell was her gun? How the hell had she let the old man get a jump on her? Dane watched the glint of the knife and lasered in on it, heedless of anything but the need to get the knife away from Shana’s neck, away from her face, where the blade flashed and threatened within millimeters.

  From behind, Dane grabbed for Henrique’s knife hand and pulled it away with every ounce of his determination. The man’s hand came free of its grip on Shana. And then it came slashing around toward Dane.

  Shana screamed and Dane put up his forearm in defense. The move worked well to protect his neck and vital organs, but his arm was sliced and bled profusely. Using the weight of his body, Dane pushed the older man out the door and slammed him onto the cement. As Henrique climbed back to his feet, with the knife still in one hand, his eyes wild and his teeth bared, Dane turned sideways. This time he would block the knife with his foot or kick Henrique into next week, or both.

  It turned out that Henrique was slower than Dane and Dane’s kick landed square in the man’s jaw before he had a chance to slash with the knife. This time when Henrique fell, he didn’t get up. Shana had burst through the door and rushed to him. They both bent over the inert man.

  “Let’s drag him back inside,” Dane said. The sweat from his forehead dripped. He felt slimy and looked down at his shirt and his arm. It was gruesome. Blood-soaked and dripping. Shana looked too.

  She said, “Are you crazy?” Then she acted.

  She ripped the other sleeve off his shirt and wrapped it around his wound and said, “You’re a mess. We’ll let the police take care of Henrique.”

  With Shana holding onto him, Dane went to go back inside. Instead, Cap burst through the door, breathless.

  “Oscar has Floyd tied up.” Cap took a breath. “The other two men are dead.”

  Relief flooded through Dane with the knowledge that he could stop. He didn’t have to go in and fight again. Shana held onto him and although his wound stung like hell and he’d lost some blood, he kept his forearm raised and immobile and knew it would keep. He didn’t need her to hold him up, but he didn’t bother telling her that.

  “What happened to you?” Cap approached and looked closely at his arm.

  “We need to get him to the hospital. Henrique got him with his knife.” She stopped and Dane could swear her eyes glittered with what could be tears—she was emotional. She took a breath.

  “A knife that was meant for me.” Her voice was back to its usual strong, sure Shana the queen tone.

  Dane turned when a car screeched to a halt at the curb near them. Acer jumped out the passenger door. The kid—Ronnie Ryan—was driving.

  “The police are on the way. What the hell happened to you?” Acer jogged toward them and stopped in front of Dane and did the same close examination of his arm that Cap had done.

  “It’s not a mortal wound. I’m fine,” he said.

  They heard police sirens coming in from a few blocks away.

  “Sorry we’re late to the party,” Acer said.

  “Where have you been?” Dane asked. Ronnie approached, but he didn’t give him the close examination that Cap and Acer had. He looked white.

  “The police lines at headquarters were down. I called Ronnie for a ride and we swung by the station to notify them about the trouble on our way here.”

  Oscar came out the door then to the now crowded sidewalk, dragging Floyd, who had his arms and hands bound with duct tape.

  “Duct tape?” Dane said.

  “I’m an old fashioned guy. I like it better than plastic ties. More readily available worldwide.”

  Cap slapped Oscar on the back. Floyd’s mouth had been covered with tape, but he stared at Dane and Dane knew exactly what the man was thinking. The hate and the depravity came through loud and clear. Dane gave him a mild, almost disinterested look in return. That’s all the man deserved now.

  A taxi screeched to a halt at the curb nearby and David and O’Keefe jumped out. They jogged in the direction of the growing crowd surrounding Dane and Shana and the crime scene. There were back slaps of a quick exchange of greetings, but all eyes fell back to Dane. He supposed it was the blood dripping from his arm.

  “What happened to you?” Oscar said. Dane rolled his eyes.

  Shana said, “He was cut by Henrique.” She glanced down at the man who remained prone on the sidewalk nearby. “Do you have any more duct tape?”

  “I’ll be happy to take care of that,” David said. O
scar retrieved the roll from his pocket and gave it to David.

  Shana looked at Dane. “I’m calling the ambulance. I’m going with you to the emergency room.” She made the call.

  “We’ll have to wait for the police. We need to give our statements—”

  “Don’t worry about that. We’ll cover it,” Chief O’Keefe said. “They can get your statement later or they can go to the hospital and get it. You need to get that arm stitched up before you lose any more blood. The sidewalk is already a mess.”

  Dane nodded at the man, acknowledging his form of apology.

  “He’s right,” Acer said. “Besides, you look terrible. You’re scaring the kid.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll ride with you in the ambulance,” Oscar said. He lowered his voice and added, “I don’t want to hang around for the police’s questioning, if you know what I mean. I’d rather not be involved in the official law enforcement portion of this party.”

  They were lucky that the ambulance arrived within seconds of the police, but Oscar had waited next door even so. A crowd had gathered and the police took over as Dane and Shana climbed into the ambulance and Oscar discreetly followed.

  Dane woke up in his own bed the next morning. Alone.

  He’d refused to stay at the hospital overnight. No need. They’d given him blood and stitches. His arm wound would heal and he’d have another scar. The worst thing that had happened somewhere during the scuffle was that he twisted his knee. It had swollen and they’d taken pictures of it and told him he had a sprained MCL. Again.

  The sun streamed through the window from the southeast and he figured it must be past ten in the morning. The sound of voices out back drifted in through the open window. He wished to hell Shana was in bed next to him now.

  After he washed and dressed, limping as little as possible, he went outside with an ice pack Velcroed to his knee to the patio in back of his beach shack overlooking the Vineyard Haven harbor. Oscar was there with David and Dan O’Keefe and Cap. Acer was gone. His eyes searched and didn’t stop until they found his girl.

  She looked up and smiled. His heart stuttered. She walked toward him.

  “You’re finally awake. They must have given you good drugs before you left the hospital last night,” she said.

  The others made smartass remarks about him sleeping in, but he hardly took his eyes from hers.

  She said, “You going to get us donuts for breakfast? I’m starving.”

  In truth, Dane thought she must have lost ten pounds since they got the trouble call. He said, “I have something better in mind.”

  She swatted at his good arm and rolled her eyes at him.

  “The doc told me about all I can lift is a phone so I’ll call the kid to deliver something gourmet from his restaurant.”

  Cap said, “If you’re calling out for food, I’d rather have pie.”

  “That can be arranged.” Dane slipped his phone from his pocket and pressed in the kid’s number first.

  Shana turned to Oscar and asked, “Where are you off to the next?”

  “I haven’t decided yet, but I may go home for a while.”

  “Where is that? David asked.

  “I can’t say since I’m in the government witness protection program and they frown on me divulging my whereabouts to priors—people I knew in my prior life.”

  Everyone laughed at that. Dane finished his calls.

  “I’ll give you a lift,” O’Keefe said. “If you stop in Boston first, because my wife and son would love to see you.”

  “Grace would love to see you too. In fact she’ll kill me if she finds out you were this close and I didn’t drag you home for a visit,” David said.

  “That’s an offer I can’t refuse.” Oscar turned to Shana and asked, “What are you going to do next, young lady? Do you plan to stay here for the summer?”

  Silence followed. It was an awkward moment. Dane stopped what he was doing, about to bring a mug of coffee to his lips, and watched her. She lost her cool a little and lifted her chin and said, “What’s it to you?

  Oscar laughed. “I guess I have my answer.” He gave Dane a warning look.

  David jumped in and said, “Oscar is always trying to protect other people’s women.”

  They all laughed except Cap. And Dane and Shana.

  “What did I miss?” Cap asked.

  David said, “Long story, but Oscar was not in favor of me marrying my wife. He didn’t think I was good enough for Grace—he was probably right, but Grace took a chance on me.”

  Oscar said, “It’s a work in progress. I’m still watching.”

  David slapped him on the back and said,” Watch away.”

  O’Keefe said, “Or you could have my wife fix you up—”

  Now Oscar raised his hands.

  Dane continued to watch Shana. She looked like she still felt troubled by Oscar’s question. Or maybe she was troubled by her answer—which she’d kept to herself. Or maybe she didn’t know the answer.

  Maybe she was still considering leaving, or thought she had to. Or worst of all, maybe she thought she needed to stay to nurse him, take care of him. Dane didn’t need a nursemaid.

  He said, “I think our pie has arrived—baked by a professional.” He limped toward the back door and managed to sweep Shana up with his right arm around her waist on his way by. He took her with him through the back door to his kitchen.

  “The pie isn’t here yet,” she said.

  “No, but it will be soon enough.” He pulled her in with his one good arm to hold her tight against his chest. He dipped his head and laid his mouth on hers for a long kiss to prove she was not his nursemaid. Thank God she didn’t resist. He never knew if she would. Made kissing her a dangerous proposition every time. Made it extra exciting. But then he was a sick one when it came to his need for excitement. That need was wearing him out. He was tired, but he was fighting that feeling with everything in him.

  He lifted his head and buried his mouth near her ear and asked, “What’s the answer to Oscar’s question?”

  His question froze her for a moment. Then her gut squirmed as if it were inhabited by a live animal. An animal named Dane.

  “What do you mean?” She stalled. He separated from her. Her thoughts were too jumbled to say more, to give an answer. It was the question she wrestled with every day, every minute she was in his presence, and more so when she was alone and wanting him.

  “There shouldn’t be any question, should there?” he asked again.

  “I didn’t ask it, I didn’t bring it up—you heard David. Oscar is overprotective of his female friends. Don’t pay attention to him.”

  “I’m not. I’m paying attention to you. And you didn’t answer him.”

  “Because he didn’t deserve an answer,” she said. She stiffened her back, confident in her answer, that she was on sure ground.

  “Do I deserve an answer?”

  That quieted her, threw her thoughts into chaos again. She heaved a sigh and pushed the hair up off her neck. It was hot. Shutting off her unsettled thoughts, she let her instincts take over without interference.

  “I’m staying.” She held his eyes, concentrating on him, on seeing him, feeling his physical presence. She quivered with uncertainty, but she’d meant her words. The quivering went through her to her insides and through her center and she gravitated forward against him and felt the singe of his body.

  “I’m glad.” He whispered and played with a tendril of her hair. Holding her with one arm, he nuzzled her neck. She felt herself losing her ability to stand, felt her muscles and then her bones turning to liquid and swirling to a heady vibrating excitement.

  The feelings churned and her mind spun again and her thoughts settled into focus. In spite of everything, all the pain he’d caused, all the pain he would still cause, Shana let him hold her. How could she—an adrenaline junkie too much like him—give up the most exciting man she’d ever met?

  A Note to Readers

  Dear Re
ader,

  Thank you for reading Dane and Shana’s Brazilian adventure story. I sincerely hope you enjoyed your moments of escape into their world in Beachcomber Trouble. Their story continues with the ongoing Beachcomber Investigations Series. Their next story is Beachcomber Heat, now exclusively available in the Summer Heat boxed set with 15 other scintillating novellas by fabulous authors. In the future it will be available as an individual title.

  I would love to hear from you! I invite you to send me a note to my email address at stephaniequeen@rocketmail.com. You can also follow me on Twitter @StephanieQueen or visit me at Facebook on my Stephanie Queen page or at my SQ website.

  If you loved the story, please consider leaving a review on the site where you purchased this book. I would very much appreciate it!

  I especially invite you to sign up for my SQ Newsletter for new releases, contests and a FREE short story: Dane Blaise – Once Upon a Time.

  In the meantime, I’ll be working hard to bring you more stories from my heart, featuring characters you’ll love.

  Sincerely,

  Stephanie Queen

  Stephanie Queen Books

  Beachcomber Investigations Series:

  The Beachcombers – Prequel Edition

  Beachcomber Investigations – Book 1

  Beachcomber Santa – Novella – Book 2

  Beachcomber Valentine – Novella – Book 3

  Beachcomber Baby – Book 4

  Beachcomber Trouble – Book 5

  Beachcomber Heat – Novella – Book 6

  Scotland Yard Exchange Series:

  Between a Rock and a Mad Woman – Prequel

  The Throwbacks – Book 1

  The Hot Shots – Book 2

  The Romantics – Book 3

  The Beachcombers – Book 4

  Small Town Romance Series:

  Small Town Glamour Girl Christmas