Friends and Lovers Trilogy 03 - Seduced

by Beth Ciotta

  Beaming, the two men stood and approached Jake. “Boy? Girl?”

  “Girl. Her name’s Hope.”

  “That is a beautiful name, mon ami.”

  Jake jammed a hand through his spiky blond hair, chuckled. “At least it’s not Rainbow. Rainbow Leeds. Can you imagine?”

  “How’s Afia?” Rudy asked.

  “Thank God, Mamma and baby are doing well. Although, the doctor wants to keep them in the hospital for a few days. Not unusual with a preemie, so they tell me.” He wiped away a renegade tear. “You should have seen it, guys. The way they pulled Hope out of Afia’s belly. It was … I was so freaking scared and then … there she was. This tiny little baby. My daughter.”

  “I cannot wait to see them,” Jean-Pierre said.

  “You can stay with us as long as you like, Jake. You know that.” Rudy interlaced his fingers with Jean-Pierre’s. “Our home is your home.”

  “Thanks, I … ” He licked his lips, narrowed his eyes. “What the hell just happened here? Why’s everybody smiling at you and why the hell were they applauding?”

  Rudy blushed. “I just asked, well, I didn’t really ask, he didn’t let me finish, but …”

  “We are getting, how do you say it?” Jean-Pierre smiled. “Hitched.”

  Jake blinked. “No shit? Well, hell. Congratulations.” He processed a second, then threw his arms around both men and hugged them tight. “Wait till Afia hears. You just bumped her spectacular day up to stupendous.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

  Sofia stared at the digital picture on her cell phone and relived the worst night of her life for the umpteenth time as her plane rolled up to the gate. If she thought about it enough, stared at the graphic evidence enough, she’d desensitize herself to the horror. At least, that was the theory.

  To think all this time she’d had the hard evidence to convince Joe, to condemn the cowboys. Her mind had twisted everything around, making her think she’d aimed and shot a gun, when she’d really aimed and shot a picture. She’d aimed and shot at the precise moment the cowboy had shot and killed Cavendish.

  She rarely used the camera function, but her cell had been in her jacket pocket when she’d ventured out of the screening room in search of her host. On a whim, she’d plucked it out to snap a picture of that Picasso painting. She had no idea if it was an original, she doubted it, but it had struck her as unusual and she wanted to document the work so that she could research it later.

  Then she’d heard voices.

  “Are you for real?” she heard Cavendish ask. Then he laughed. “Forget it.”

  She’d assumed he was joshing with a couple of actors. The guests he’d claimed he’d invited. She’d stepped around the corner to snap a candid shot. A memento of the weekend. Something they could all laugh about later.

  Only, no one was laughing now.

  The flight attendant jerked Sofia out of her thoughts as she instructed passengers not to forget whatever they’d stored in the overhead compartments. Swallowing hard, she snapped shut her phone and unfastened her safety belt. She wondered if the cowboys realized that she’d taken the grisly shot. Doubtful, as they’d noticed her after she’d screamed, after she’d taken the picture. A split second later she’d fled for her life. Would they really have made the connection in all that chaos?

  Then again, the man who’d called her had instructed her to bring her cell along to Vermont. Maybe he wanted to make a trade. The phone for Lulu. Or, maybe it was simply because Lulu had her on speed dial and vice versa. Maybe he just wanted to be able to easily reach her with instructions on where to meet.

  Regardless, she’d taken precautions. Back in Phoenix, after driving like a maniac to the airport, she’d acted on her epiphany and checked the pictures stored on her phone while waiting to purchase a ticket to Vermont. As soon as she saw what she had, she’d emailed a copy to her home computer as well as Murphy’s and Joe’s. She’d also left a voice mail on Joe’s home phone explaining why she’d knocked him out and acted on her own. At least he’d know the entire story and would be able to pass on the evidence to Special Agent Creed. She probably shouldn’t have ended the call with “I love you” but, dammit, it had just come out and she wanted him to know her heart should things go badly in Vermont.

  With any luck, she’d rescue Lulu before he even heard the message. Even if he’d recovered consciousness within minutes, she’d delayed him further by securing his wrists and ankles with his tie and her pantyhose. She’d also stolen his Jeep, leaving him without transportation or an immediate clue as to where she was going.

  Luckily, she’d been able to score an express flight. Four hours to Pittsburgh, change planes, and two more hours to Burlington. Factoring in time zones, she’d arrive before midnight.

  Before she’d boarded she’d tried to call Murphy. He was probably sick with worry wondering where Lulu was. He had no reason to suspect a kidnapping. All the same, she had to keep him from contacting the authorities. She couldn’t risk the cowboy following through on his threat to harm Lulu should he spot anyone but Sofia. Unfortunately, she’d gotten Murphy’s voice mail, so she’d left a brief, succinct message.

  Adrenaline surging, she shoved her tinted glasses higher up her nose as passengers stood and shuffled down the narrow aisle. As soon as she deplaned, she’d try Murphy again. Still dressed in her dark suit, sin-black hair tethered in a low ponytail, she strove to blend with other businessmen as they flowed into the terminal. Her connecting flight was two gates over. She focused on Lulu. Focused on her mission.

  She was zoning, channeling Cherry Onatop’s special operative persona and skills, when two men flanked her and physically veered her off course.

  “Special Agent Earl Creed. FBI,” the man to her left said before she could react. “Just keep walking, Ms. Marino.”

  Stunned, she blinked up at the dark suited man on her right. Joe.

  He glared down at her. “Not a word. Not one fucking word.”

  Her heart hammered. She knew he’d be pissed, but this was more than she’d bargained for. He looked eager and ready to wring her neck. It rattled her for all of two minutes, then she remembered the cowboy’s warning. “You have to let me go. I have a plane to catch.”

  “We have a plane waiting for you, Ms. Marino,” Creed said calmly, as they escorted her down a stairwell, outside onto the tarmac, and toward a private jet.

  She shook her head, dragged her feet. “I can’t go back to Arizona. Not now. Not yet.”

  “We know where you need to go, ma’am. We’re speeding things along.”

  “Murphy got your message,” Joe snapped. “He called me. I called Creed.” He squeezed her forearm and propelled her toward the jet. “It’s called teamwork.”

  Realizing their intent, she jerked free and backed away. “You can’t come with me. Absolutely not.”

  Creed glanced at Joe. “We’re wasting time.”

  “You’ll compromise my mission!” she railed.

  Joe lunged forward and threw her over his shoulder so fast that he knocked the wind out her. She was still gasping for air when he boarded the jet and tossed her in a seat. Her heart stuttered when he grasped the armrests, leaned down, and got in her face.

  “This isn’t fucking “Spy Girl”. This is real life, Sofia. The FBI located Cavendish’s body. Those cowboys buried the body in the middle of the desert, only the idiots didn’t bury him deep enough and the fucking coyotes dug him up. If you thought he looked bad the last time you saw him, you should see Cavendish now.” Red-faced, Joe leaned closer, his voice growing louder with every word. “We’re talking about a couple of dimwitted, cold-blooded killers, and they’ve got your sister. My sister-in-law. My brother’s wife. Yet you saw fit to handle this on your own? Murphy and I are trained to negotiate with kidnappers. We’re trained in hostage extractions. What the hell are your qualifications? You’re an actress, for Christ’s sake!”

  Hurt and fury raged in her blood,
but she swallowed every sarcastic, nasty reply that welled in her throat, because he was absolutely right. She hadn’t been thinking clearly. She’d been thinking with her heart.

  And now her heart was breaking. “I fucked up.”

  Joe continued to stare down at her. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

  Creed squeezed his shoulder. “Lay off and take a seat. Over there,” he added, pointing to a cluster of seats further back. “I need to talk to Ms. Marino.” He raised an impatient brow. “Alone.”

  She breathed easier when Joe backed away, taking all that hostility and judgmental bullshit with him. But then her cheeks burned brighter when she noticed five other men, all of whom had witnessed Joe’s tirade. Some looked amused, others embarrassed, but they were all studying her with interest.

  Creed leveled them with a frown. “What are you looking at? Sit down. Buckle up. We’re taking off.”

  On cue, the jet roared down a runway and the nose tipped up. Once airborne, Creed regarded Sofia with a sympathetic smile. “Bogart’s aggravated because he cares,” he said in low voice.

  Sofia bristled. “He’s pissed because I knocked him out and tied him up.”

  “He told me about that.” He grinned. “I’m impressed. And when that bonehead cools off, he’ll be impressed too.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “I know Bogie pretty well.”

  Another chip broke off her heart. “I don’t.” He’d hurt her deeply by insinuating she didn’t know the difference between fantasy and reality. Actress did not equal airhead. But, he’d been right about her not being trained to negotiate with kidnappers. She aimed to rectify that right now. “The men who are holding my sister hostage threatened to hurt her if I didn’t show up in Burlington alone.”

  “I assure you, they’ll be under the impression that you’re alone.”

  She blinked at the Special Agent in Charge. “So, you’re going to let me go though with this? You think I can hold my own with the cowboys?”

  “With your acting skills and fighter instincts? Yes. I do.” Creed angled his head. “And so does Bogie. He’s just not happy about it.”

  She refused to look over at the man. Composure was essential just now, and he could easily blow hers away. She was too fragile. “He’s aggravated because he cares.” She understood that. She knew he’d spoken in anger and she believed he cared deeply, maybe even loved her. But it wasn’t enough. She’d told him before she wanted a relationship based on mutual respect and adoration. She refused to spend the rest of her life with someone who could make her feel like a failure with one wrong word, one skeptical look. This moment, she wasn’t sure if the problem was with him or her.

  “Bogie said that you emailed his brother visual evidence of the shooting,” Creed said.

  Sofia nodded. “I emailed a copy to Joe as well. I snapped a shot with my cell phone just as … well, I can show you after we land.”

  “Let me have it now.” He snapped his fingers. “Agent Benson. I need the photos off of this cam phone.”

  Sofie handed Benson her phone. “How …?”

  “He’s a tech genius,” Creed explained as Benson took off with her phone. “He’ll be the one wiring you for sound.”

  “I have to wear a wire?”

  “We need to hear what’s being said. We’ll also fit you with a wireless ear bud so that we can talk you through whatever happens.” Creed glanced at Joe, then back to Sofia. “We’ll get your sister back alive and well. There’s just one catch.”

  “What is it?”

  “You have to listen to what we say and follow through.” He crossed his arms, gave a curt nod. “You have to take direction.”

  At last she risked Joe’s gaze and matched his stern expression. “I can do that.”

  Burlington, Vermont

  Allowing Sofia to deplane and proceed into the airport without him or the obvious protection of an Agent, had been excruciating for Joe. He’d kept his distance while Creed had issued her last minute instructions on procedure. Honoring her need to mentally prepare, he’d let her go without kissing her goodbye, without words of encouragement—no distractions. Meanwhile, his body hummed with dread. He’d been furious that she hadn’t confided in him back in Phoenix after she’d first received the threatening call. Instead of trusting him, she’d acted rashly yet again. He’d nurtured his anger for as long as he could because beneath the anger lurked fear. Fear that something would go wrong and she’d end up hurt, or worse.

  Now the wheels were in motion and he had to detach and trust in the team’s competence. Pushing aside negative thoughts, he dialed his brother. “Hey, Murph.”

  “You in Burlington?”

  “Just landed.” Joe pressed the phone close to his ear as he and Creed climbed into a surveillance van provided and manned by Agents from the Albany Field Office. They were joined by Agent Benson. Two Phoenix Agents split off in unmarked cars. The remaining two stayed behind in the terminal to shadow Sofia. “She’s been briefed,” he told Murphy. “She knows what to do. What she’s supposed to do.”

  “Sofia’s a smart woman,” Murphy said. “She’s not going to endanger the safety of her sister. Is she wired? What about a tracking device?”

  “Yes and yes.”

  “Okay then.”

  Joe marveled at his brother’s calm. Then again, Murphy never panicked in a crisis situation. That’s what made him so damned good at his job. Only this time it wasn’t a client’s life at risk, but his wife’s. “How you holding up?”

  “I’m guessing, about the same as you.”

  Which meant, on the inside, his brother was a frickin’ nervous wreck.

  “She’s got the cowboy on the line,” Benson said, adjusting his headphones and signaling for quiet.

  “I heard that,” Murphy said to Joe. “Call me back with the info.”

  “You made excellent time.” Frank swiped the back of his hand over his drool covered chin and struggled to focus. Exhausted and experiencing the lingering effects of drugs and alcohol, he’d fallen asleep sitting straight up.

  “I want my sister back,” Sofia stated plainly. “I’m standing outside the terminal, near a taxi stand. Tell me where to go.”

  Straight to hell, came to mind, but instead he directed her to a diner midway between the airport and the cabin he and Jesse were holed up in. “No taxi. Rent a car. Once you get to the diner, pull into the middle of the parking lot and wait. I’ll call you with further instructions.”

  “I look different,” she said. “Just so you know. I dyed my hair black. I didn’t want anyone to recognize me on the flight.”

  He supposed that was smart, seeing that she was a celebrity and all. “What are you wearing?”

  “Black suit. White T-shirt. I’m carrying a black shoulder bag.”

  He gingerly touched his mangled face, glanced over at Jesse’s casted hand. His blood boiled. “What kind of shoes are you wearing?”

  “Boots.”

  “With spiky heels?”

  “Um, well, yes. Sort of.”

  “Once you get to the diner, take them off.” He rose from his chair, moved to the threadbare couch, and nudged his brother awake. “When you meet up with us you best be in your stocking feet, Sofia …” He paused for dramatic effect. “Or else.”

  “Put Lulu on. I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s okay.”

  Frank cursed under his breath, schlepped over to the bed, and shook the drugged-up pipsqueak. “It’s your sister,” he told her while placing the phone near her ear. “Tell her you’re okay.”

  Disorientated, she slurred, “I don’t feel so good.”

  He rolled his eyes, took back the phone. “She’s fine,” he told Sofia. “Flying high on Percocet. It’ll take us thirty minutes to get to that diner. You’ve got forty-five. Don’t be late.”

  He signed off then, looked at Jesse, who looked like hell. “Once we get to Mexico you can sleep for two days,” he told his brother while scooping up their groggy hostage.
“Grab the hunting knife we bought at General Pat’s and let’s go.”

  Joe traded a look with Creed as the team sprang into action. His muscles loosened as he called his brother. “Lulu’s fine. Said she wasn’t feeling well, but that’s probably due to the Percocet. They drugged her to keep her quiet. Didn’t you tell me that she’s hypersensitive to medication?”

  “Yeah.” Murphy blew out a tense breath. “She’s going to be sick as a dog. The good news is, she’s probably too out of it to be scared.”

  “I’ve got more good news.” Joe relayed the address of the diner.

  “I’m at the local police station with a couple of the boys from Albany,” Murphy told him. “We’ve got a chopper at our disposal. I can be there in fifteen.”

  “Same here.” Joe smiled. “We’re dealing with amateurs, Murph.”

  “Yeah, well. One misstep and you’ll be looking at a couple of dead amateurs.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Creed. “Understood.”

  Sofia parked the rental car near the sole security light in the deserted lot of the closed diner. She cut the engine, took off her boots, and shook off a chill. Her sister was at the mercy of the same coldhearted men who’d murdered Cavendish. The same monsters who’d left Luc to bleed to death.

  She’d memorized Creed’s instructions. She had every intention of following the FBI’s directive. But, what if something went wrong? She couldn’t imagine life without Lulu. A world without all that sunshine and goodness. Why the hell hadn’t she spent more time with her sister over the last few years?

  Because she’d been too obsessed with her own life. With trying to land the right man and the plum role. She’d moved to the other side of the country in a last ditch effort to attain stardom before hitting thirty. She’d succeeded by snaring the part of Cherry Onatop. She’d thrown herself into her job, socialized and networked with directors, producers, agents, publicists, screenwriters—you name it. Meanwhile, aside from weekly phone calls, she’d sorely neglected Lulu and Viv. She could’ve snuck away for sporadic visits to New Jersey. She could’ve invited them to California, could have taken them to Disneyland, for a tour of Universal Studios. They would have loved that.