Deadly Engagement

by Elle James

  “You can talk to me,” Goatee insisted.

  “You’re just the hired help. Who’s in charge?”

  “I am.” A dark-haired man in a black polo shirt and white slacks stepped up to the side. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “You the owner?” Creed continued with his angry fisherman voice.

  “I am.”

  “How do I know? You hiding something behind those sunglasses?”

  The man pulled off the glasses.

  Based on all the photos Creed had seen of this man, there was no doubt in his mind. This was the one.

  “Look, you’re irritating my men,” he said, waving his sunglasses at the men with the guns. “Why don’t you leave and make everyone happy?”

  Abandoning his local fisherman role, he stared straight up at the yacht owner. “Because I have a message for Phillip Macias.”

  The man with the goatee pulled out a pistol and added it to the arsenal, all pointing at Creed.

  The man in white slacks stiffened. “And the message is?”

  “If you want your cargo, be at the Cape Churn point at eleven-thirty tonight. And it’ll cost you three-hundred grand in twenties.”

  “Why don’t I just have my men shoot you now? It will save time later.”

  “Then you won’t have your cargo, and you won’t know where it’s hidden.” Creed held out his hands. “Your choice.”

  “Tempting.” The man’s brows drew together, his eyes narrowing. “I’ll be there.”

  “With the money,” Creed said.

  “With the money,” Macias agreed.

  “By yourself.”

  Macias slid his glasses back over his eyes. “Now, what kind of fool would I be to come alone?”

  “A smart one.”

  “I’ll be there with my bodyguards.”

  “I won’t, and I’ll keep your cargo.”

  Macias’s mouth thinned into a line. “Eleven-thirty. I’ll be there.”

  Creed nodded, sat back in the boat, pulled his hat down low, started the engine and steered the boat away from the yacht. His back itched. He could feel all five weapons trained on the back of his head, and banked on the fact that they needed those diamonds to make the ultimate deal.

  God, he hoped he was right. If he wasn’t, he’d need a helluva nurse to patch him up after they used him as target practice.

  * * *

  Emma stretched and yawned, her hand reaching out to find the man in the bed beside her, her grasp coming up empty.

  She sat up straight, clutching the sheet to her naked breasts. “Creed?”

  No answer.

  Moby trotted into the bedroom, his toenails clicking on the wooden floor. He sat beside the bed and whined, his tail swishing like a feather duster across the wood.

  One glance at the nightstand gave her the answer she knew was coming. Creed had gone and taken the diamonds with him.

  Tossing aside the sheet smelling of their love-making musk, she got up, dressed in shorts and a tank top and hurried through the house. His duffel bag was gone, as well, as were his clothes from the dryer. Her own garments lay neatly stacked on top of the dryer, folded uniformly straight and square.

  Emma clutched a T-shirt to her chest and swallowed hard on the sob rising up her throat. Why did she do this to herself? She’d known he wasn’t going to stay. Why did she think that after last night the outcome would be different?

  She vaguely remembered him waking her to tell her he was leaving and that he’d be back. How could she believe him when he’d taken everything he owned with him?

  The sun had gone below the sea in the distance, a pale glow of pink, fading to dark purple, the only evidence it had been up earlier. Mist rose from the ocean as the cool night air hovered over the sun-soaked warm water. Clouds built in the distance, snuffing out the remaining sunlight with a depressing dark gray.

  It fit her mood.

  Moby bumped against her leg and whined as if sensing her sadness.

  “Wanna go outside?”

  His ears perked, and he leaped for the door.

  Emma threw on her tennis shoes, snapped the leash on Moby’s collar and tucked a key into the hidden pocket of her shorts. “Come on. Maybe I can run him out of my system.”

  Soon she was out the door and down the street she’d jogged the morning she’d found Creed sleeping in his SUV. The vehicle wasn’t there this time, making her heart even heavier. After jogging two miles, Emma realized running Creed out of her system wasn’t possible. She’d have to run a very long time, and frankly, she was still tired from her overnight ordeal, the frightening underwater fight and making love with Creed. She’d be better off getting a good night’s sleep and use her last day of vacation to explore the Anna Maria. Perhaps her luck would change for the better, and she’d find a fortune in Spanish gold to line the coffers of Cape Churn Memorial and get the Children’s Wing Project back on track.

  And if wishes were horses...she’d probably be cleaning up their crap, too.

  The last block before Sand Dollar Lane, Emma dropped into a steady walk, not at all anxious to return home. Without Creed there, it was depressingly empty.

  Moby bumped her leg, panting in the darkness. When they rounded the corner, he barked and leaped forward, jerking the leash out of Emma’s hand.

  “Moby!” Emma ran after him, afraid he’d get out on a busy street and be hit by a passing motorist.

  Instead, he flew through the open gate to her little house and ran up on the porch.

  “Hey, Moby,” said a deep voice, followed by laughter and a stern, “Down, boy.”

  Her heart pounding against her ribs, Emma entered the yard, hope swelling inside. “You came back.”

  “I had to.”

  She frowned up at the shadow of his face, wishing she’d left the light on over the porch so that she could read his expression. “You had to?”

  “You need to go stay with someone tonight.”

  “Why?”

  He traced her cheek with his finger. “You’re not safe alone.”

  Emma captured his hand and held it against her face. “I’ve lived alone for a long time.”

  “Not with a known terrorist gunning for you.” He gripped her arms. “Please. For me. For Moby. Maybe you can stay with your friend Molly at the B and B.”

  “She doesn’t allow dogs, and I can’t leave Moby.”

  “Then what about Gabe’s wife? Kayla? Could you stay with her?”

  “They live in a small cottage by the lighthouse. They barely have room for Gabe, Kayla, the baby and Gabe’s teenage son.”

  “You could sleep on their couch. Anyone, anything. Just go stay with someone.”

  “Can’t you stay with me?”

  He shook his head. “I wish I could. But I’m working tonight.”

  Her heart dropped like a wad of lead to the pit of her belly. “Are you going after Phillip Macias?”

  Creed stared at her. Without saying a word, she knew the answer. “Why you? If he’s a known terrorist, why can’t they arrest him and put him in jail?”

  “There’s not enough evidence to pin him with charges. And he’s in league with someone to provide him with enriched uranium. That stuff is hard to come by. We need to catch both men. Phillip to stop his brand of terrorism for hire, and his uranium supplier from supplying extremists with the means necessary to murder millions.”

  “But why you?” She beat her fists against his chest. “Why do you have to put your life on the line for everyone else?”

  He shook his head. “Why are you a nurse? Why do you help people survive horrible accidents, diseases and injuries?” He gripped her wrists in his big, strong hands. “Because it’s who we are.”

  “I don’t want you to die,” Emma
whispered. “I just met you. I want to know you a little longer.”

  He smiled down at her, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness. “I want to get to know you longer, too. And I don’t plan on dying. Not anytime soon.” With a sigh, he pulled her into his arms and cradled her gently. “I came to Cape Churn to find a terrorist. It’s my job. I have to do it. I promise, when it’s all done, I’ll be back.”

  “Promises, promises.” Her voice hitched on a sob. “I’ll go stay with Kayla and Gabe, if they’ll have me. But if you’re not going to stick around, don’t bother to come back. You said it yourself. You’re not the staying kind of guy. And I’m better off cutting my losses before I get too attached.”

  She pushed away from him, dug her key from her pocket and opened her front door. Moby raced in, woofed and circled back for Creed.

  Emma put out her foot, stopping the dog before he could blow through the door again. “Stay.”

  “I’ll follow you to Kayla’s.” Creed’s voice was stiff, tight.

  “I can make it on my own,” she said without facing him. “I’m not your responsibility.”

  As she closed the door, Creed called out, “I’m following you to Kayla’s.”

  Emma stuffed toiletries, pajamas and a change of clothes into an oversize tote, grabbed a box of dry dog food and Moby’s leash and walked out the front door, down the porch, past Creed to her damaged Jeep. She stowed the tote and folded the front seat down so that Moby could jump into the back. As Emma climbed into the driver’s seat, Creed got into his rented SUV and shifted into Drive, waiting for her to pull ahead of him.

  For a moment she stared through the cracked windshield. Her heart hurt so badly she wanted to burst into tears. Instead, she pulled up her big girl panties and drove away from her little cottage overlooking the cape. Not a star peppered the sky as the land and sea disappeared, consumed by incoming fog. A portent of things to come?

  A shiver raced across Emma’s skin. Legend had it that only bad things happened when the Devil’s Shroud cloaked the land.

  Chapter 12

  “Comm check,” Creed said quietly. He stood in the mist on the Cape Churn point, regretting the timing of this assignation and the fog that had crept in like a plague to blanket land and sea.

  “Tazer, check.”

  “Nova, check.”

  “I can’t see a damned thing,” Nicole whispered into Creed’s earpiece.

  “That goes for me, too,” Casanova confirmed. “You’re gonna be on your own. If something goes down, I’m libel to shoot myself before I find the enemy,” he admitted. “This fog is thicker than mi madre’s carne guisada.”

  “Your mamma doesn’t cook carne guisada, she doesn’t have time, working two shifts at the hospital in San Antonio. And it’s pea soup. The fog is thicker than pea soup,” Tazer said.

  “Quiet.” Creed cocked his head and pulled the earpiece out of his ear. A soft rumbling sound made the fog seem alive. He set the earpiece firmly back in his ear. “I hear an engine.”

  “Game on, gang,” Tazer whispered. “We’ve got your back, Creed.”

  “Wherever it is,” Nova added.

  A large, dark SUV loomed out of the fog, bright lights bouncing off the low ceiling, blinding Creed. He raised his arm to shade his eyes and waited for Macias to get out.

  Four doors opened. Great.

  “He brought company. Move in.” Creed gave the order softly, without moving his lips to form the words. Then he grinned and spread his arms wide, showing the new arrivals he’d come unarmed. “You’re late. Have trouble finding the road in the fog?”

  “Where are the diamonds?” Goatee Man rounded the front passenger side door, carrying an AR-15 assault rifle, aimed at Creed’s chest. The driver and two other men equally armed stepped out of the SUV.

  “I might have them here, and I might not.” Creed dropped his arms and the smile. “Where’s Macias?”

  “Couldn’t make it. He had another errand to run.”

  “Sorry, I only deal with the boss man.” Creed turned as if to leave.

  Goatee Man fired a round that kicked up rocks near Creed’s feet.

  Touching a finger to his ear, and then speaking loudly so that Goatee Man could hear, Creed said, “Hold your fire, team.” Creed glanced back, shaking his head as if at a child needing discipline. “Are all your brains in your beard? If you shoot me, you’ll never see those diamonds.”

  Goatee Man snorted. “You wouldn’t have come without them.”

  “I had a hunch Macias would send his flunkies.” Creed crossed his arms. “I bet he didn’t even get the cash.”

  Goatee Man stepped forward, brought his rifle to his shoulder and leaned his cheek on the side, sighting in on Creed. “Hand over the diamonds, or I shoot you now.”

  “I have a team standing ready to shoot every one of you. Go ahead. Shoot me. And if you make it out of here alive, you’ll go without the diamonds and no way to find them.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Tazer.” Creed spoke softly.

  “On it.” As quietly as a cat moves in the night, Tazer moved forward, switched on the laser sight of her M4A1 rifle and trained it on the Goatee Man’s heart.

  Creed almost smiled. Goatee Man didn’t know, until the man standing on the other side of the vehicle with his own gun glanced across at him. “Van, your chest.”

  The man didn’t budge. “Shut up.”

  “Look at your chest, Van,” the other man insisted.

  Van, or Goatee Man, glanced down. When he saw the red beam on his shirt, he shifted his aim toward the source. The beam blinked off, and nothing could be seen past the reflection of the SUV’s headlights against the fog.

  “I suggest you go back to your boss and tell him the deal’s off if he can’t be bothered to show up and make the exchange himself. Without his hired monkeys with their toy guns.”

  Van turned, his aim back on Creed. “I should kill you right now and save us all the trouble. I’ll bet those diamonds are around here.”

  “And if they aren’t?” Creed laughed. “I understand Macias doesn’t suffer fools. You willing to bank on his mercy?”

  Goatee Man’s eyes narrowed, his mouth tipping up on one side in a sneer. “Goes both ways, big shot.”

  Creed bit down on his tongue to keep from asking Van what he meant by that last comment. A bad feeling swarmed over him like a cloud of mosquitoes prickling his skin.

  “Load up,” Van called out. The other three men, guns and all, climbed into the SUV. Van stood with his rifle to his shoulder, still aiming at Creed. “You’ll regret this.”

  Creed smiled. “I don’t so far. I have a bag full of diamonds. I could disappear today and find another buyer if I don’t hear from Macias soon.”

  “Oh, you’ll hear from him all right.” Van’s lips curled in an evil smile. “You’ll hear. And I’ll lay odds you’ll listen.”

  Van climbed into the SUV, and the vehicle slowly backed down the dirt track until it disappeared except for the glow of the headlight. It, too, faded into the fog, leaving Creed surrounded by a ghostly darkness.

  “What do you think he meant by that last comment?” Tazer asked, joining Creed on the track, her rifle pointed at the dirt.

  “Yeah.” Casanova stepped out of the fog. “What did he mean by ‘you’ll listen’?”

  Creed shook his head, that bad feeling knotting in his gut.

  “I don’t like it.” Tazer set her weapon on Safe, expelled the bullet in the chamber and retrieved it from the ground. “Sounds like he has something on you.” She straightened, her head tipping to the side. “Did you get your girl moved to a safe location?”

  A rush of adrenaline pushed up into Creed’s chest and lodged in his throat. “I did.”

  “You sure it’s safe enough?�
� Nova asked.

  “I thought so, but now...” Creed spun and ran for his vehicle hidden in the brush. For a moment, the fog hampered his attempts to find it. When he practically ran into it, he yelled, “Get in!”

  Casanova and Tazer dove into the backseat as Creed slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator, fishtailing out of the bushes onto the dirt track. He fought to control the steering wheel and sped away from the point, praying he wouldn’t be too late.

  * * *

  Emma paced the length of the lighthouse cottage, Moby trotting alongside her. Every once in a while Moby stopped and stared at the window. Emma couldn’t. If she stayed still, she’d start thinking about Creed, about the diamonds and the men with the scary guns.

  “Tonya’s fed, changed and ready to sleep through the night. I hope.” Kayla, the pretty redheaded artist who’d stolen Gabe McGregor’s heart, emerged from the master bedroom at the back of the house, Tonya pressed against her shoulder as she patted her back. The baby burped, bringing a smile to her mother’s face. “That’s better.”

  Emma couldn’t help but envy the new mother, her own womb aching for a child of her own. She paced faster. You had to have a man in your life to have what Kayla had.

  Kayla nestled the little girl in her arms and leaned back against the kitchen bar, overlooking the living room. “You know, pacing won’t make the time go faster.”

  “I know, but I can’t sit still.” Emma wrung her hands and spun to pace along the big windows that normally looked out over the ocean. Tonight the light from the living room made the windows appear like giant mirrors, reflecting Emma’s worried expression as she wore a path across the wooden floors. “I feel like I’m in a mirrored cave or a not-so-fun fun house,” she grumbled.

  “Gabe and I plan on installing automatic window shades as soon as we can afford to. It is pretty creepy when you can’t see out. Especially when those on the outside can see in.” Kayla shivered. “I still have nightmares.”

  “I’m so glad Gabe caught the serial killer before he got to you.” Emma smiled across at her friend. “I can’t imagine Cape Churn without you and sweet little Tonya.”