Cindy Gerard - [Bodyguards 05]

by Under the Wire

  Because it looked like she might collapse right there, he took her arm, steered her toward a chair. “Sit.”

  She wrenched her arm away. “I can’t sit. I have to do something!” Fire as bright as her tears spilled from those amazing eyes. “I have to find him…but I don’t know how.”

  “Have you called the State Department?”

  “And the Sri Lanka prime minister’s office. Their local police. Everyone I could think of. For all the good any of it did. They’ll look into it.” She lifted a hand in frustration. “You know as well as I do what that means. Days…weeks…maybe months of diplomatic red tape and tap dancing. He doesn’t have months. He…he may not even have days.”

  Okay, Manny thought. So he wasn’t completely immune. He wasn’t as dead inside as he wanted to be, because her misery was getting to him. And the fact that he let it pissed him off.

  “Look. I’m sorry about this. But why me? Why the hell did you come to me? For Christ’s sake, why isn’t his father looking for him?”

  She closed her eyes. Swallowed. When she met his gaze again, it was with a tortured, searching look. “I’m hoping that his father will.”

  Silence rolled into the room like a live grenade, hushed and deadly, before the meaning of her words detonated with the force of a bomb.

  Manny stared at her tearstained face, refusing to believe what he thought she had just told him.

  I’m hoping that his father will.

  Jesus. Sweet Jesus Christ.

  Lily watched a range of emotions play across Manny’s face. He didn’t want to believe her. And yet she could see the struggle in his eyes.

  “Are you telling me the child that’s missing is mine?”

  Tears stung again. “He’s amazing, Manny,” she said, then gasped when he gripped her upper arms and jerked her up against him.

  “Why are you doing this? Why do you lie?”

  Seventeen years of feelings and fears and regret spilled out like floodwater. “I’m not lying! We have a son! A beautiful, intelligent, caring young man who doesn’t have time for me to convince you that I’m telling the truth.”

  “The truth? Why should I believe you know the truth? Everything you ever told me was a lie.” The conviction in his tone was bitter and unyielding.

  “What…what are you talking about? I never lied to you.”

  He made a sound of disgust, then, as if just now realizing he was touching her and finding it repugnant, pushed her away. She staggered, then righted herself as he sank down on the arm of an overstuffed sofa, glaring at her as if she’d just told him the sky was falling.

  “Manny…whatever happened…whatever you think I’ve done…”

  She stopped when he jerked his gaze away from hers, but she wasn’t about to give up. Not now. Not after she’d spent the last two hours since she’d received the call from Adam’s sponsor finding Mullnix and convincing him to bring her here.

  “Manny…” Desperate now, she groped for anything that made sense. “You disappeared. I…couldn’t find you.”

  His gaze cut into her like a machete. “I disappeared? I woke up alone that night. It was you who were conveniently absent when they came for me, querida.” He hurled the endearment like a stone.

  That night. That horrible night when she’d returned from the clinic and found him gone. “I…I got a beep,” she explained. “From the clinic. There was an emergency. I didn’t want to wake you. I left a note. Jesus, Manny. When I came back in the morning, you were gone.”

  “And I am to believe that this surprised you?” Sarcasm dripped from each word.

  “Surprised? Of course I was surprised. I didn’t know where you were. When a day went by, then two, and you didn’t show up, I was out of my mind with worry. I looked everywhere. I asked everywhere. They said…they told me that you were dead.”

  Even seeing the hatred in his eyes didn’t diminish the pain that always accompanied the memory of that horrible day. “They told me you’d been killed in a firefight.”

  Another harsh sound of disgust. “It’s a good story, when in fact I woke up that night with Poveda’s men pointing their guns at my belly and cold sheets beside me on the bed. But you already know that, don’t you?”

  “Know? Know what? What are you talking about?” She couldn’t think past her fear for Adam.

  When Manny only glared she sifted through his words. When they came for me. Poveda’s men. Guns. “Poveda? Are you saying that he came after you?”

  “Jesus, Lily. Cut the crap. You know exactly what happened.”

  Finally, it registered—and the realization stunned her. “You think I turned you in? That’s what this is about? You think I told Poveda about you?”

  His gaze bored into hers, accusing, unyielding, and filled with loathing.

  She shook her head, realizing then that there was no defense against the absolute certainty on his face.

  “And now you say I have a son.” He said it so quietly she barely heard him. “And I am to believe you.”

  The depth of his hatred became clear to her then. It wasn’t based only on anger. It was based on disillusion. On despair. On disappointment. Because of that, she could see that there weren’t enough words in the English language to convince him she hadn’t betrayed him. And there wasn’t enough time in the world to make him see the truth.

  Adam didn’t have the time. He needed her. He needed Manny, and so did she if she was going to get her son back.

  In the process of searching for Manny, Lily had learned what a warrior he’d become. As a Special Forces soldier he’d served in South America, Afghanistan, and God only knew how many other places. Now he served the Boston police force and had built on his reputation as a man to be counted on, a man of integrity.

  He was also the only man who could do what she’d asked him to do. Something she could never ask of any other man.

  Just like she knew of only one sure way to convince him. She fumbled inside her purse for her wallet. Dug around and pulled out a photograph of Adam. She held it out to Manny with a shaking hand.

  “You don’t have to believe me. Believe this.”

  He stared from her to the photograph, then finally took it. For long moments his expression remained blank, his gaze riveted on the picture of a boy who could have been Manny at sixteen.

  She watched as his face drained to pale. Finally, he swallowed, closed his eyes. The waiting was interminable, yet even before he finally asked, she knew the photograph had made him a believer.

  “What is his name?”

  Tears of relief welled up, spilled over. “Adam. His name is Adam.”

  Again, Manny stared at the photo before slowly holding it out to her.

  She shook her head. “You keep it.”

  He said nothing, yet she could see the emotion he fought to keep in check.

  She made one final, desperate attempt to explain why sixteen years had passed and this was the first time he’d seen the face of his son. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I was,” he said with an emptiness that made her heart ache.

  Then he rose. “I need to make some calls.”

  For the first time since she’d received that horrible news three hours ago, Lily felt a tentative sense of relief. Relief was tinged with regret, however. For all the years wasted, for all the pain, all the misunderstandings. Manny Ortega hated her, was convinced that she had betrayed him. Probably wished to God he’d never seen her face again.

  None of that was important now. What was important was that he would help her.

  He would help her because a father would move heaven and earth to save his son.

  CHAPTER 8

  Katunayake International Airport, twenty-two miles

  north of Colombo, twenty-six hours later

  Heat radiated in shimmering waves through the tropical island summer, warping the silhouettes of the passengers disembarking from the Sri Lankan Airlines jet. A glut of indistinguishable shapes descended the jet steps and inched lik
e a snake weaving across the tarmac. It was like a picture of Lily’s life ever since she’d heard that Adam had disappeared: distorted, terrifying, out of focus.

  She couldn’t shake the cloying sensation of living a nightmare, knew she had to get her wits about her if she was going to be any good to her son. But she was too wired and too frightened for him to pull it all together.

  “There they are.”

  Lily followed Manny’s gaze to see three figures break away from a group of passengers and make their way toward the gate. Like Lily and Manny, they were dressed in white camp shirts and long tan pants with zippered compartments running down the legs.

  Two of them appeared to be carrying large camouflage packs on their backs. They were similar to the one Manny wore and referred to as ALICE packs. The third person wore a smaller version of the backpack that resembled Lily’s. It wasn’t until the three of them reached the gate and she could see them clearly that Lily realized the third person was a woman.

  Lily hadn’t expected that. Wasn’t exactly certain what it meant that a woman had come along.

  She was about five-five, five-six. A redhead. Pretty. The men were tall, hard-edged, and handsome. Dark hair, intense eyes, Caucasian. Brothers, Manny had said, although getting information out of him was like pulling teeth.

  As close as she could figure, Ethan Garrett and Manny had served in the Special Forces together several years ago. Lily still wasn’t clear on how Manny had ended up in the elite U.S. Army’s special ops unit, but from the bits and pieces she’d gathered, he’d come directly to the United States after escaping from Poveda’s men.

  What she knew about Ethan Garrett was that he and his brothers, Nolan and Dallas, and their sister ran a securities agency in Florida with the assistance of another ex–Special Forces buddy, Jason Wilson. Because Ethan and Dallas had dropped everything to come to Sri Lanka to help when Manny had called, Lily knew something else. Their bond was blood strong.

  Lily studied the redhead. Wondered if she was the Garretts’ sister, Eve. Right now Lily felt too jet-lagged and edgy to even attempt to pry information out of Manny. She’d find out soon enough anyway—although “soon” had become a relative term.

  The twenty-four-hour flight to Colombo had been interminable. It seemed like days instead of hours since she’d slept. She wanted to get to Adam. She wanted to find him yesterday, but they’d had to be content with booking a 4:00 P.M. flight out of Boston with connections in London and Mumbai before reaching Colombo.

  She’d stopped at a bookstore on the way to Logan International to meet up with Manny. There she’d hastily bought every Sinhala and Tamil language tape and Sri Lanka guidebook she could lay her hands on. Between short, fitful naps, both she and Manny had alternately listened to the tapes and pored over the books much of the flight, trying to get the lay of the land and a handle on some basic phrases and customs.

  She also suspected that Manny was grasping at any opportunity to not talk to her. His hatred for her was like a third entity between them, huge, hulking, ever present. They’d finally touched down an hour ago. Had been waiting in stormy silence for the Garretts to arrive ever since.

  Lily had wanted to move on without them. Manny had been insistent that they wait. But then he’d been insistent about other things, too. Like that she stay behind in Boston while he and his former special ops buddies flew to Sri Lanka and searched for Adam.

  “You asked me to help. I’m helping,” Manny had said, his jaw as pliable as stone when she argued with him. “By advising you to stay here. You’re not equipped or trained to handle this kind of op.”

  This kind meaning “dangerous.” On that one thing they agreed. Lily had made numerous phone calls to the Sri Lankan capital of Colombo—all with the same frustrating response: They were looking into it.

  She couldn’t wait on time-sucking bureaucratic red tape on either the U.S. or the Sri Lankan end; if she did, a search might never get underway. That left only one option: They would launch their own unsanctioned rescue mission.

  Dangerous.

  Lily knew the risks. She’d willingly take them to find her son—just like she’d willingly put up with Manny’s wrath.

  “I’m going,” she’d told Manny. “It’s not open for discussion. If Adam is hurt, or sick,” she’d said, not wanting to think it but determined to be pragmatic, “my medical training could make the difference.”

  Along with her backpack, she’d packed a duffel full of medical supplies—antibiotics, dressings, suture kits, antimalaria pills, anything she could think of—praying all the while that she wouldn’t have to use them. On Adam or Manny or his friends.

  She hung on to that duffel like a lifeline and, as was the norm since this all began, watched with an exhausting combination of appreciation, apprehension, and impatience as three new arrivals made their way slowly through the gates.

  When the redhead spotted Manny, she rushed forward, shrugged off the shoulder straps of her pack, and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her hard, lowering his face into the hollow of her neck before she leaned back, framed his face in her palms, and kissed him. The kiss was brief, filled with concern and affection. Like a sister would give a brother, and yet Lily felt an unsettling kick of jealousy—as unexpected as it was out of place.

  It was the familiarity between them, she supposed. The honest show of love and the obvious connection. And the woman’s welcome as well as the men’s clearly excluded Lily and established the four of them as a unit.

  Nothing new there. Lily lifted her chin, squared her shoulders. She’d been on her own for a long time. She was used to being odd man out. She couldn’t imagine what Manny had told them about her. Or maybe she could. It would explain the men’s total avoidance of eye contact.

  “Lily.” Manny turned to her, his arm still around the redhead, and made brief introductions.

  The woman, it turned out, was not a sister but Darcy Prescott, fiancée of the tallest Garrett brother, Ethan, who glanced at Lily, nodded a cool hello, then clasped Manny’s shoulder.

  Dallas managed a curt hello, then turned back to Manny. “Where can I get our currency exchanged?”

  “Bank of Ceylon runs a Bureau de Change—just around the corner.” Manny nodded in the direction of the bank.

  Without another word Dallas headed out. Lily felt her back stiffen even more. It was very clear that they were here for Manny. That was fine. She didn’t care what they thought of her as long as they helped find Adam.

  And then Darcy Prescott blew through the protective wall Lily had quickly erected by unwinding herself from Manny’s side and pulling Lily into her arms.

  “I’m so sorry about your son.” Darcy hugged Lily tight, her emotions honest and true. “But we’ll find him. Trust me. These three will move heaven and earth and they’ll make it happen.”

  Darcy’s unexpected overture of friendship caught Lily off guard. Gratitude, fatigue, and jet lag had tears threatening again. She blinked them back. Knew she must look shell-shocked and pulled it together.

  “Thank you,” she said, pulling away from Darcy Prescott’s unexpected embrace. “Thank you for coming. All of you.”

  “What say we chitchat on the fly?” Ethan shouldered Darcy’s pack, slung an arm over her shoulders, and followed Dallas.

  Which left Lily to walk beside Manny, a stranger in a foreign land, alone, again, among these four people who, for all of their sacrifice in coming here, regarded her as an outsider.

  “So, what do you think?” Darcy and Ethan stood by the rental-car desk while Manny, with Lily and Dallas, gathered their gear.

  “About what?” Ethan stuffed his wallet back into his hip pocket.

  Despite the gravity of the circumstances, Darcy had to grin at this amazing and beautiful man. His dark hair and eyes matched his sober expression. The way he carried himself—tall, composed, proud—reflected his special ops background. But it was his integrity and honor that drew her to him the most. She’d lost him once, but now she wa
s lucky enough to have him back in her life. Lucky enough to have her own life back—in no small part thanks to Manny. And now she was hoping that her background with the State Department might open some doors and help Manny get his son back. A son he’d never even met.

  “You’re not that good at playing coy, tough guy,” she teased, so very, very grateful that Ethan was hers to tease again. “You know about what. What do you think about Lily?”

  Ethan lifted a shoulder, stoic as ever. “Not here to pass judgment but to find the boy.”

  “Judgment wasn’t what I had in mind, Lieutenant,” she said, addressing him by the rank he’d worn in the Special Forces when she’d met both him and Manny years ago in Peru. “The fact that you chose that particular word, though, tells me you’ve put Lily Campora on trial.”

  Ethan leaned an elbow on the counter, impatiently waiting for the paperwork. “Don’t know the woman, but Manny’s my friend. And from my perspective, sixteen years is more than enough time to tell a man he’s got a child.”

  “Agreed, but from what you’ve told me, which is damn little,” she pointed out with a leading smile, “I figure there’s got to be more to the story.”

  Ethan grunted. “Honey, we’re talking about an outline here, not a story. Until he called, I’d never heard Manny mention Lily Campora’s name. Now all I know is that they met seventeen years ago in Managua, had an affair, and Manny hadn’t seen her since—until yesterday.”

  “Like I said,” Darcy replied, linking her arm with Ethan’s as he accepted the keys to a Suburban and they headed for the rest of the group, “got to be a lot more. Did you notice the way he looks at her?”

  Ethan reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a roll of cherry Life Savers. “Like she’s a two-headed, fire-breathing dragon?” He offered Darcy the roll of candy that he was never without before taking a piece for himself.

  Darcy popped the Life Saver into her mouth. “Yeah. Like that. A lot of emotion invested in those looks.”

  Another grunt. “All of it anger.”