Moments later he squatted in the deeper shadow of an immense evergreen on the knob of the hill and looked down on Site 32. Searching for signs of life, he gave the campground below a preliminary once-over.
It could be worse. At least the fire pit where he was supposed to make the drop wasn't accessible from all sides. The hill behind it was too overgrown to negotiate with any stealth, and he had possession of the rest of the knoll where it curved around to form the second side of the site. Woods separated the third border from the next camp, and he had a clear view of the approach in front. Crouching next to a tree, Zach widened his visual inspection to include the surrounding area.
It appeared deserted, but when it came to the woods al night, there were always places to hide. Hell, the eroded bank alone a few feet to his left provided countless pockets of darkness that even his exceptional night vision couldn't penetrate. There were simply too many shadows cast by the huge uprooted trees canting down the hill.
But if the kidnapper lurked in one of them, he'd have to come out sooner or later to collect the money. Zach eased back through the woods and down the hill, then made a production out of approaching Site 32 from the road. When he'd made the drop and left, he clomped down the road. But once around the bend, he raced with swift silence back to his place on the crest of the hill, where he hunkered down to keep the bag under surveillance. He had a wealth of experience in patiently blending into the background and waiting, and that's precisely what he intended to do now.
All night long, if necessary.
As it turned out, he didn't have very long to wait. He'd only been there minutes before he heard someone making his way up the road… and not with any particular stealth. The kidnapper didn't exactly march up the middle of the road like the redcoats coming to put down the rebellion, but he may as well have done. Soles scuffed occasionally against the blacktop, and toes came into obvious contact with pinecones, for three separate times Zach heard the distinct skitter of the latter as they rolled across the pavement. When whoever it was grew closer, Zach could even discern agitated breathing.
And he was torn. This was one of those situations in which a one-man watch sucked. You never, but never took your eyes off the object of your surveillance. But neither did you bypass the opportunity to find out all the information you could about your opponent, because the more you knew, the better you could maintain the element of surprise—and sometimes that was the only advantage you had. Unfortunately the two directives were diametrically opposed since he'd have to break the first rule to accomplish the second.
Shit. It really took two to affect an airtight stakeout in a case like this.
Then Zach mentally shrugged. So, big deal; who was it likely to be but the kidnapper? And if it was someone else, going over to check it out wouldn't put him so far from the ransom bag that he couldn't intercept an approach from another direction. Crab-walking foot by careful foot, he eased over to the verge.
The already undermined bank threatened to give beneath his foremost foot, and he edged back several inches. Pulling his nine millimeter from his waistband, he rested it against his knee and peered down to where the kidnapper would come into view any moment now, if the ruckus he made was any indication.
When the person suddenly did round the bend and come into view, however, every muscle in Zach's body went ti°ht and he had to bite his tongue against voicing the obscenities that rose up in his throat. But, shit fuck hell. He'd know that head of kiss-me-daddy hair anywhere. Not to mention that walk—simply changing from her usual four inch heels into a pair of strappy, flat-heeled sandals had done nothing to disguise it.
Lily.
When he'd smelled her in the Jeep earlier, apparently it hadn't been merely the residual scent transferred from their rolling around on his bed. Zach ground his teeth. What in hell did she think she was doing putting herself in danger, and screwing up his op? Shifting his weight onto his forward foot, he glared down at her.
A rock broke loose from the edge and rattled down the bank, and he moved back before he started an avalanche. Dammit, he had to get her out of here, but how was he supposed to do that and keep an eye on the ransom at the same time?
He was so focused on her that he didn't immediately heed the small hairs rising on the back of his neck. But they were an atavistic warning system that had stood him in good stead for eighteen years, and he didn't have to hear the faint crack of a branch on the ground behind him to realize that Lily wasn't the only one in the woods with him. Bringing his gun up, he was turning toward the sound when a light suddenly flashed on and caught him full in the face, blinding him. He aimed just to the left of the dazzling circle of light, but down on the road Lily screamed his name, and there was such fear in her voice that for one ill-advised moment he froze. Jesus. He couldn't see a thing.
He could hear the footsteps rushing him, however, and his finger once again exerted pressure on the trigger. But before he could squeeze off a shot, the light flared in an arc, and the side of his head exploded in agony.
Then everything went black.
Chapter 17
AWASH IN A STEW OF FIGHT-GR-FLIGHT impulses, Lily froze. Seeing Zach spotlighted above her, his profile fierce and a gun the size of a cannon to her unaccustomed eyes in his hand, adrenaline shot through her system with such force she thought her heart would burst. As if she needed another reason to be scared out of her wits! She was already completely freaked by how out of her element she was—to have him suddenly pop up on the hill like an illuminated commando frieze in some avant-garde West Hollywood production darn near made her wet her knickers.
That was nothing, though, to the moment when the light shining on his face swirled sickeningly and he suddenly vanished. Her initial fear had been for herself. Now her tenor was for him. It was swiftly superceded by a surge of red-hot fury at the thought of some faceless coward hurting him, and her paralysis shattered. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she charged up to the campsite.
Keeping her eye on the knoll, she scrambled over the woodsy debris that littered the area. When a darker shadow in a night already way too dark suddenly detached itself and hesitated on the ridge just above her, she slid to a stop, her heartbeat hammering in her chest, her throat, her ears. Ohgawd, ohgawd . Whatever had possessed her to think she could be of any earthly use to Zach ? What seemed like such a good idea in the well-lit Beaumont mansion had revealed itself for the brainless folly it was the moment she'd crawled out the back of his Jeep. But the thought of him going into this all alone had been unendurable.
Now, more desperate to get to him than she was afraid of the kidnapper, she snatched up a rock to use as a weapon and forced herself to stalk toward the shadowy presence on the hill. It tossed its head like an enraged stallion, but then to her immense relief ran crashing through the woods in the opposite direction. The instant the kidnapper was gone, she stepped forward and hissed, "Zach!"
There was no answer and she called his name again, with a little more volume and a lot more insistence. Silence, broken only by creepy, shifty, nocturnal sounds, greeted her frantic demand, and shivering with pure reaction, she started up the hill, her feet sliding in their leather-soled sandals.
She paused when she reached the top, her breath sawing as she tried to reconcile where Zach's position, as seen from the road, was likely to be. Before she could figure it out, she heard a low groan to her right and, thrilled to hear evidence he was alive—and more shamefully, that she wasn't alone after all in the middle of the woods in the dead of the night—she headed that way.
She hadn't taken three steps when she tripped over something underfoot and fell hard onto her hands and knees. Her breath catching just shy of a sob, she pushed herself upright, feverishly brushed her hands against her jeans to free them of the muck clinging to her skin, then picked her way with more care over the uneven ground. "Zach?"
"Lily. What the fuck are you doin' here?"
He sounded drunk, but she was so relieved to hear his voice she nearl
y wept. And when she finally located him and found him sitting up, gingerly palpating his left temple, she promptly dropped to her knees, threw herself against his chest, and clamped her arms around his strong neck in a fierce stranglehold.
"Jeez's Christ," he protested in a harsh voice.
But his arms wrapped around her, and she shuddered in pure, unadulterated relief to feel their strength and the comforting body heat that accompanied his embrace. Clutching at him, she burrowed closer. "Oh, gawd, Zach, I was so scared you were dead."
"Prob'ly should be, letting myself get distracted like a freakin' raw recruit." He suddenly sounded much more alert… and furious. Clasping her chin in one hand, he tipped her face up and thrust his own down until they were nose to nose. "What the hell kind of irresponsible stunt was that, stowing away in my car? What did you think you were doing, Lily?"
"I don't know," she wailed truthfully. "Your friends were supposed to be here to back you up, and then when they couldn't be, it just didn't seem right that you should handle this all by yourself." Considering what a huge help she'd turned out to be, that sounded even dumber said aloud. She shrugged and admitted, "I didn't think, period."
He gave her an odd look. "You were watching my back?"
Her bark of laughter came dangerously close to hysterics. "Well, that was the plan, in theory. But it's so dark out here, and this much nature up close and personal scares me to death, so all I did was nearly get you killed ."
The arm wrapped around her waist tightened. "You wusses—it takes more than a little pop upside the head to kill a marine." Then, releasing her chin, he felt around the ground near his hip. A moment later he gave a grunt of approval, and Lily caught a quick glimpse of a handgun before he tucked it out of sight behind his back.
He shrugged when he caught the direction of her gaze. "At least the kidnapper's not armed with my own pistol," he said and frowned. "I suppose it's too much to hope he didn't waltz away with the ransom money."
"I don't know. He wasn't much more than a shadowy form up here on the hill when I saw him."
Muscles tensing, Zach jerked erect, and reluctantly Lily loosened her grasp on his neck and moved back. Reaching out to grip her shoulders, he stared at her intently. "You saw him up here?"
"Yes, but not very well, I'm afraid. Just enough to think he's too tall to be a woman."
Zach shrugged that aside, obviously not finding it significant at the moment. "Where were you when you saw him? This is important, Lily."
"Down there in the campsite."
He gave her a brief, hard kiss. "That's my girl. Maybe all isn't lost, after all." He pushed to his feet.
When he started to stride away, Lily scrambled to her feet. "Wait! Don't leave me here!"
He reached back and grasped her hand. "Keep up." Despite the brisk command, however, a moment later he tightened his grip and said, "Watch that root."
"What root?" Aside from glimpses of his face when it was an inch away, she might as well have been in a cave. "How can you see anything?"
"Good night vision, remember? When people aren't flashing lights in my face, that is. Move a step to your left."
Zach led Lily down to the campsite, not releasing her hand until they reached the firepit. Squatting down, he felt behind it, and the tension knotting his gut since he'd regained consciousness unraveled slightly when his hand closed over the satchel. Maybe he hadn't fucked everything up, after all. His head felt like spikes were being driven behind his eyes, and his vision was the tiniest bit blurry, but those were things he could live with. Screwing up the drop and further endangering his sister weren't—but it looked as if he might have been given a second chance. And this time they were going to play by his rules.
"I can't believe I scared him off with a rock," Lily said, and he rose to his feet to see her glancing around nervously.
"I doubt you did. My guess is he didn't want you to see his face." Grasping the satchel handle in one hand and her hand in the other, he hustled them out of the campsite and back to his Jeep. But when he opened the passenger door for her a moment later, she dug in her heels, tilted her chin up at him, and thrust out a hand.
"Give me the keys."
"Don't be ridic—"
"Don't you be ridiculous," she interrupted and poked him in the gut with her extended hand. "I've had a rough night, and I'm darned if I'm going to get into a car with a driver who may have a concussion."
"I don't have a concussion." Hands on his hips, he bent his fiercest I-hold-your-life-in-my-hands-and-you'd-be-wise-to-remember-it master-sergeant look on her.
Without her usual skyscraper heels, the top of her head barely reached his chest. She obviously thought she was a giant, though, for not only did she not blink under a look that had sent men twice her size scrambling to do his bidding, she gave him another poke. "Give 'em here!"
He handed them over. As much as he hated to admit it, she was in much better shape to drive than he was, and pretending otherwise was dumb. He climbed into the passenger side, eased his throbbing head back against the headrest, and closed his eyes. He didn't open them again until Lily killed the engine what seemed only minutes later.
Surprised to find that he'd dozed off, he saw they were back at the Beaumonts', and the house was ablaze with light. Biting back a sigh, he reached for the door handle, only to pause when Lily touched his thigh.
"How do you feel?"
Like last week's K-rations. "Fine."
She made a skeptical sound. "You're not a very good liar, Zach."
"Yeah, well, would it make any difference if I said my head's pounding like a kettle drum? I've still gotta do what I've gotta do." He took a bracing breath, then opened the door, slid his thigh out from under her warm hand, and climbed out. But looking at her across the top of the Jeep, he admitted, "I could use your help on one thing, though, before we go in to face the lions."
Miguel had his ear pressed against the heavy wooden panel of a second floor door when the commotion broke out downstairs. Foregoing trying to calculate if it was safe to enter the room, he lifted his head and strained to make sense of the sudden babble of voices. But although the volume rose and fell, exact words escaped him.
He didn't know what was going on down there, but he knew he didn't like it. Even a floor away, he felt exposed, and since he hadn't heard any noise on the other side of the heavy door, he cautiously turned the knob. When no one promptly demanded to know who was there, he slipped inside.
The little bit of light that followed him into the suite showed it was another casually elegant, empty set of rooms. He couldn't believe this place. There were first-class hotels in Bogota not half as beautiful, and he ran appreciative fingertips over the silky, striped chair in front of him. Then footsteps suddenly raced in his direction down the hallway, and he stilled, staring at the door that hadn't quite closed behind him and not daring to breathe again until the footsteps pounded past and on down the staircase.
Hotels didn't seem half as busy, either.
He should probably get out of here. After an hour of cautiously checking rooms, he still hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of Taylor's yellow-haired puta . and now a humming sort of agitation hung over the place, making it feel like a hive getting ready to swarm. That much activity couldn't be good for his chances of moving around undetected. And when a few moments later it occurred to him that he could barely even remember what Emilita looked like, he considered for an instant going back to Bisinlejo and just leaving this whole vendetta behind.
Then his chest puffed up. This wasn't about her. It was about pride , and his good name, and being a man. Besides, Taylor used to preach something about discretion being the better part of valor back when he'd been showing the men of Bisinlejo how to hold their own against the cartel. So he'd stay and see this through. But right now the situation called for a quick retreat.
Miguel headed for the door. Pulling out before the master sergeant returned was not a cowardly act. it was merely subscribing to the live-to-figh
t-another-day credo.
Just the way the U.S. Marines had taught him.
Lily felt her temper start to rise as she stood next to Zach in the Beaumont parlor. Richard was yelling, Mrs. B. was in hysterics, and Cassidy sat on the couch grinning as if this were an amusing melodrama put on strictly for her entertainment. Christopher kept inspecting Zach with narrow-eyed suspicion, and Jessica, in between bouts of attempting to calm her aunt, stared in-credulously at everyone else in the room as if unable to believe their behavior.
Lily was having a tough time with that, herself. Pandemonium had been the rule ever since she and Zach had explained what transpired tonight in the woods. And after every thing Zach had gone through for them, she neither understood nor appreciated the Beaumonts' attitude by half. His temple sported a vicious knot the size of a golf ball and his color was awful. He looked dead on his feet, but considering the new bombshell he'd just lobbed into the mix after Christopher asked where the money was, it seemed unlikely he'd get the rest he needed anytime soon. The only thing he had going for him, apparently, was the second of blessed quiet that had fallen in the wake of his reply.
Then Christopher moved forward to stand chest-to-chest with him. "What the hell does that mean , you've put it someplace safe?"
His aggression caused Lily to take a cautious step back, her lashes batting nervously. Zach didn't so much as blink.
"Exactly what it sounds like. I'm through letting you folks comply with every damn demand the kidnapper makes without taking a single precaution to ensure Glynnis and David's safety."
Surprisingly, Christopher's militance faded, and he stepped back. But before Lily could draw a relieved breath Richard pushed forward, demanding belligerently, "What kind of precautions could we take?"
"Insisting on speaking to your cousin before forking over his ransom, for starters," Zach snapped. "Jesus. You just sent me out with a boatload of cash and not so much as one lousy assurance as to the kids' safe return—not to mention a shred of proof they're even still alive."
Getting Lucky m-2 Page 19
