by Elle James
“I can’t,” he bit out. “She’s in trouble. I can feel it.”
“We’ll be of no use to her dead,” Nova said from the backseat.
“Creed,” Tazer said, her voice low, calm, insistent, “we have the diamonds. He probably wants to trade the girl for the diamonds. It’s a win-win. We get the girl back safe and sound. He gets the diamonds with the tracking device.”
“She’s going to be okay,” Nova added.
Tazer touched his arm. “We don’t even know she’s been taken.”
Creed pulled his smart phone out of his jacket and tossed it to Tazer. “Dial the number for the McGregors. Hurry.”
She activated the phone, and the screen glowed brightly against her pale face. “We aren’t getting any reception out here.” Tazer continued to stare down at the backlit screen. “There! Two bars.” She thumbed through his contact list and pressed the call button. “God, it takes forever to connect.”
Creed held his breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he took another corner too fast. With the fog so thick, he hadn’t seen it until they were in it, headed for a ditch.
Tazer gripped the handle above the door to keep from slamming into the window, while holding the phone to her ear. “I’m not getting anything.”
Creed’s foot briefly left the accelerator. “What do you mean you’re not getting anything?”
Still holding the phone to her ear, Tazer shook her head. “I mean it’s not ringing—nothing.”
“Call the chief,” Creed urged.
“Looking in your contacts.” Tazer scrolled back through his contacts list.
“To hell with the contacts, hit 9-1-1. Hurry!” Creed blew into Cape Churn faster than was prudent in the horrible, foggy conditions. He prayed everyone had stayed home and out of his way, or he’d surely run them over before he even saw them. Nothing was going to slow him down until he got to the lighthouse cottage and Emma.
Tazer hit the three numbers and pressed the call button, set the phone on speaker and waited.
“Cape Churn Emergency Response, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“Get a unit out to the lighthouse cottage ASAP. Emma Jenkins’s life is in danger.”
“The chief, two units and an ambulance were dispatched to that location five minutes ago,” the female dispatcher announced. “Have there been further developments requiring additional emergency support?”
Creed couldn’t answer, all his worst fears coming to pass.
“No,” Tazer responded for him. “Thank you.” She ended the call and sat silent in the seat beside Creed, staring out the window.
Creed’s heart slipped to the bottom of his belly. He slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “They got to her.”
“We don’t know that,” Tazer said. “She could be fine. Maybe someone slipped and broke a leg.”
He shook his head. “Why else would the chief and all those units be on their way out there?” Once they cleared city limits, his foot hit the accelerator hard. “I should have done more.”
“You didn’t know,” Nova said from the dark backseat.
“I knew what Macias was capable of. I knew he’d had someone watching her house. I should have had a policeman with her at all times. Hell, I should never have involved her. I should know better than anyone not to get civilians involved.”
“Shoulda, coulda, woulda. What’s done is done. If she’s gone, we go after her.” Nova rested a hand on Creed’s shoulder. “Tazer and I are in. Right, Taze?”
Tazer slapped her hand on the armrest. “Damn right.”
“See?” Nova smiled at Creed in the rearview mirror. “It’ll be okay.”
“You really have a thing for the girl, don’t you?” Tazer asked. “I’ve never seen you go ape-shit like this over anyone.”
“She’s saved my life three times in the past three days.”
Tazer snorted. “Don’t bullshit us. It’s more than that. We can tell.”
“What does it matter if I have a thing for her? When the mission is over, I’ll be out of here. Oregon is on the opposite side of the country from D.C.”
“So?” Nova leaned forward, his hand on Creed’s shoulder again. “Kat’s based out of Alaska, and she has a life outside her job with SOS.”
Kat Sikes was on their team and had lived in D.C. until her husband had been blown away on a mission in Africa. She’d returned to her home state of Alaska to recover from her grief, met Sam Russell and decided to base out of Alaska to be closer to him.
“Our missions take us all over the country and the world,” Tazer said. “It really doesn’t matter if we fly out of D.C. or Cape Churn. We go when and where we’re needed.”
Kat’s case had set the precedent. Since then, basing agents out of opposite sides of the country had proven effective, shortening response times.
“It’s not the kind of life for a family left behind.” He remembered how devastated Kat had been with the news of her husband’s death. As an SOS agent, she’d understood the risks and still had trouble accepting her loss.
“As long as they know what they’re getting into, it should be their choice,” Tazer said.
“Have you thought about giving Emma that choice?” Nova stared at him in the rearview mirror.
“Like you two are the examples for me to follow? What relationships have you been in that have lasted more than a week?” Neither one said anything. “Exactly. The job keeps us moving. Why are we even discussing this, anyway?” Creed threw his hands in the air, then grabbed the wheel again before they careened off the road and over a guardrail into the ocean. “I’ve only known her three days.”
“Three days is a record for you.” Tazer’s lips twisted. “The most I’ve seen you date is a one-night stand. Emma must be special.”
“She is.” She was smart, caring and sexy as hell. But spouses of agents lived in constant fear of losing their loved one. Creed couldn’t put Emma through that. “She deserves better than a washed-up sailor.”
“You’re not a washed-up anything.” Tazer slapped his injured arm.
Creed winced when her fingers touched his stab wound. “Watch it.”
“Sorry.” Tazer snatched her hand away. “Point is, we’re damned lucky to have you as part of the SOS team. If we pull this thing off, you will be saving millions of lives.”
“That’s a big if,” he pointed out.
“Well, we can talk about it, or make it happen.” Nova sat back, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m for making it happen.”
“Me, too. And it starts with getting Emma back and giving Macias his big bad bag of tricks.” Tazer leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, as well.
With his team backing him, Creed dared to hope. If Macias had gotten to Emma, they had the bargaining chip to get her back. He prayed she lived long enough for them to make the trade.
He almost missed the turnoff to the lighthouse cottage. If not for the glow penetrating the dense fog from the multitude of vehicles crowding the road into the McGregors’ home, he’d have gone right past.
Three police cars, an ambulance and a paramedic fire truck crowded in front of the little cottage.
Creed skidded to a stop, slammed the shift into Park and jumped out, shouting, “Emma!”
Chief Taggart broke away from a group gathered around the front porch. Rescue techs bent over something lying on the wood decking.
His heart leaped into his throat, strangling his vocal cords.
“Creed.” Taggart reached out to grab his arm.
Creed shook off his grip and pushed through the crowd, feeling his world crashing in around him. “Emma.”
The paramedics knelt around a figure. Creed couldn’t see past their uniforms. “Oh, God. Emma.”
The paramedics looked up
, leaning back, and a gap opened enough for Creed to see what had their attention.
Moby lay on his side, a broad gash along his ribs, limp, lifeless and still. Creed’s heart wrenched, and he dropped to the deck beside the animal.
Emma loved this dog. “Is he alive?” Creed choked out.
“Barely,” one of the medics replied. “We have an emergency call out to the local veterinarian. He’s going to meet us at his office in town.”
Creed ran a hand over the dog’s soft, furry head. “Take care of him, will ya?”
“Count on it.” The medic nodded. “Emma’s our best nurse. We all know how much she cares about Moby.”
“Where’s Emma?” Creed glanced up into Kayla McGregor’s pale face.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she clutched her baby in her arms. “Oh, Creed, I’m so sorry.” Her voice hitched on a sob, and she buried her face in the blanket the baby was swaddled in. “She’s gone.”
Though he knew it before they even drove up to the lighthouse cottage, the world ripped out from under Creed, and his heart fell to rock bottom. “When? What happened?”
Chief Taggart and Gabe McGregor pulled him aside. Tazer and Nova joined them as Gabe told them about Kayla’s frantic call and how Emma disappeared with Moby.
They’d gathered as many emergency personnel as they could and spread out around the cottage searching for Emma, even shining lights to the bottom of the cliffs, thinking she might have fallen off in the fog.
When they found Moby by the road and tire tracks in the mud, the chief called off the ground search and alerted other officers in patrol units to be on the lookout for any vehicle passing in or around Cape Churn. Based on all he knew, he’d come to the same conclusion the SOS team had—Macias had her.
For the length of the story, Creed could barely hold himself together. But by the time Gabe stopped talking, he knew what he had to do. He had to get Emma back. Alive. And he’d do whatever it took to accomplish that mission.
Chief Taggart stared hard at Creed, Tazer and Casanova. “You three are the high-powered operatives. Do you have a plan to get our girl back?”
Creed straightened. “I need to get out to that yacht. Now.”
Gabe grinned. “I have Dave on standby. He’s at the marina, prepping his dive boat as we speak.”
Turning to his team, Creed said, “Let’s go.”
Gabe stepped forward. “We’re going with you.”
Creed held up a hand. “I’d rather you stay back in Cape Churn, in case we need a team for hostage negotiations.”
Gabe hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Will do. We’ll have someone stand by for phone calls.”
Creed headed back to his SUV.
Tazer ran to catch up to him. “You know the higher-ups don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
“They don’t have someone they care about whose life is on the line.” He stopped long enough to shoot a look back at Tazer. “I do.”
The drive back to Cape Churn was no less terrifying. The fog hadn’t let up, and it gently choked the landscape. By the time they slid into the marina parking lot, Creed’s hands were cramped from gripping the steering wheel so hard he’d probably put dents in it.
Dave met them at the dock. “Creed, I got us all set up. The Devil’s Shroud is giving us hell, but I set the GPS to the middle of the bay where we last saw Macias’s yacht. We should be able to get close enough to find it. The good news is that they won’t have made it out of the bay in this fog. It’s too dangerous.”
Creed leaped on board the Reel Dive. “Macias isn’t known for caution.”
Tazer and Casanova untied the ropes and jumped aboard.
As soon as they cleared the marina area with the jetties and anchored sailboats, Dave threw the throttle forward, and the dive boat moved out at a speed of forty knots per hour.
Minutes later, they neared the location Dave thought the yacht would be. He slowed the boat and inched forward. Creed stood at the farthest point forward on the bow, straining his eyes to see through the thick, dark fog.
Minutes passed, and they saw nothing but more fog.
Then Tazer called out and pointed to the starboard. “I see a light!”
Steering for the light and slowly turning as they approached, Dave slid the dive boat alongside the yacht.
“Ahoy!” Creed shouted.
A few moments passed, and no one came to the side.
“Ahoy!” he yelled again.
“Keep your pants on!” A man wearing a robe and a captain’s hat appeared at the side, squinting down at Creed. “What’s the problem?”
“Let me talk to Macias.”
“He’s not on board.”
“Then let me talk to the one called Van,” Creed demanded.
“None of Macias’s men are on board. They cleared out today right after you left. Took everything they brought with them.”
“Where were they heading?”
“How should I know? They commissioned me to get them here. We’re here, and I’m heading back to Russia tomorrow.”
“I’m coming aboard.” Creed nodded to Dave, who maneuvered the Reel Dive toward the rear of the yacht.
“I’ll line up the backs of the boats,” Dave said from the helm.
Creed waited for Dave to slide the back of their boat up to the back of the yacht, and he waited until they were close together. When the dive boat was close enough, he grabbed the railing on the back of the yacht and climbed onto the deck.
The captain met him, tying the sash around his robe. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to find. They’re gone.”
“They kidnapped a woman. If you were involved in any way whatsoever...”
The captain raised his hands. “I had nothing to do with kidnapping. I didn’t even know how heavily armed they were until you came by this afternoon and they pulled out their arsenal. You want to look around, go ahead. You’re not going to find the woman.”
Creed spent the next ten minutes combing over the yacht, startling crew members in their bunks and checking every cabinet, hatch and storage area. By the time he’d completed his inspection, his heart was sick. Not only had Macias gotten away without leaving a trace, he’d taken Emma with him.
With no way to find Macias or contact him, Creed was at the terrorist’s mercy. He’d have to wait until Macias contacted him.
He paused before exiting the yacht. “I advise you not to leave tomorrow. The local police will want to talk to you about harboring criminals. Leave, and we’ll have the coastguard find you and haul you back in.”
Again, the captain raised his hands in surrender. “I’m innocent. I’ll cooperate in any way I can.”
Creed figured the captain would set sail as soon as the fog lifted, and no one would see him anywhere near Cape Churn ever again. It didn’t matter. Emma wasn’t here, and he had no way to find her.
* * *
Her wrists and ankles bound, duct tape over her mouth, and tossed into the trunk of a car, Emma didn’t have any options but to wait until her captor got where he was going and let her out. The black interior of the trunk surrounding her was nothing compared to the darkness of worry in her heart. She’d had to leave Moby on the roadside, probably dying without medical attention. He wouldn’t have understood why she’d left him there, abandoning him when he needed her most.
Tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes for the dog she loved as much as a child. He was her only family. The only living creature who’d been there for her when she’d been sad and disappointed. His enthusiasm made her smile and laugh and remember why life was worth living.
An image of Creed filled her thoughts. Moby had liked him instantly, and she considered Moby the best judge of character. He’d hated Randy on sight. Which should have been her first clue.
/> It hadn’t been an animal that attacked Moby. It had been her former fiancé, apparently risen from the dead. Or rather, had never died in the first place. He’d run his vehicle off the cliff at a point where it would crash into the sea. No one had questioned whether or not he’d been inside. On a night cloaked in the Devil’s Shroud, he’d planned his fake death to look real.
The ghost she’d seen in the picture window of the lighthouse cottage had been all too real. Moby had either seen him or sensed his presence, and once he’d gotten outside, the dog had gone after the menace lurking in the darkness.
Not only had she been stupid to trust Randy with the hospital’s money, she hadn’t seen through his smarmy lies to the real monster lurking inside.
He’d stood there holding a flashlight, shining it in her face. “Put the dog down.”
She’d begged him to let her get help for Moby. “He’s injured. He’ll die if I don’t get him to a veterinarian.”
“Good. Put him down, or I’ll stab him again.” Randy jerked the light to the side, revealing the long, wicked knife in his other hand.
Emma gasped and turned away, knowing Randy would follow through on that promise, though he’d broken every other promise he’d ever made to her and the people of Cape Churn. “You’re a despicable bastard.”
“Maybe so, but I’m going to be a rich, despicable bastard very soon. Not you, nor that muscle-bound moron you’ve been sleeping with is going to stop me.”
Before Randy could make good on his threat to stab Moby, Emma gently laid the wounded animal on the ground at the shoulder of the road. Hopefully no one would run him over, and maybe someone would find him in time to save him. Although, with the fog as thick as it was, and no one knowing where to look, that possibility seemed unlikely. She patted the dog’s head, tears running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, boy. I love you.”
Whining quietly, Moby tried to lift his head and let it fall back to the damp ground.
Randy gripped Emma’s arm and jerked her away from the dog.
