He pulled the curtains closed and turned back toward the bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Shannon slid out from beneath the covers, tucked her arms into a silky sage-colored robe—another one of Rachel’s selections—and wrapped the tie around her waist. At any other time he would have protested the covering of her glorious naked body, but his mind couldn’t embrace the welcome distraction this morning.
She moved closer. “What’s wrong?”
After only a few days together, he hadn’t expected she would be so attuned to his mood. And though he was touched by her obvious concern, he was reluctant to admit his unease. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Tell me why,” she said softly.
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” he said.
“Tell me anyway.”
He managed a smile. “I just got a feeling, all of a sudden, that something is wrong—or is going to be.”
“Have you had this kind of feeling before?”
“A few times,” he admitted. “The night Brent was killed. The night I didn’t want to leave you in your hotel room.”
“The night I was kidnapped.”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t say anything else, only wrapped her arms around him and held on. It didn’t change anything, but it did give him a small measure of comfort.
He sat there with her for several minutes, alternately cursing the unwelcome premonition and trying to figure out what it could mean.
They both jolted when the phone rang.
He stepped past her but hesitated before picking up the receiver, already knowing that this call was the reason he’d woken and that his questions were about to be answered. “Hello?”
“Hello, Michael.”
Something about the voice nudged at a memory in his subconscious, momentarily overriding the realization that no one should know he was here. “Who is this?”
There was a soft laugh. “I know it’s been a long time, but I didn’t think you’d have forgotten.”
No, he hadn’t forgotten. He’d just hoped like hell he was wrong. “Lisa.”
He heard Shannon’s soft gasp, saw her sink back down onto the edge of the mattress.
“Then you do remember.”
The satisfaction in the voice on the phone refocused his attention. Despite this confirmation, however, he was still having trouble getting his mind around the facts. Lisa was Alysia, and Alysia was A.J.
Except that the woman he’d known so many years ago had been young and carefree, full of joy and hope. How could she be responsible for the things A.J. had done? What could have happened to turn her into a killer?
“What do you want, Lisa?”
“I have a proposition for you,” she said. “A once-in-a-life-time opportunity, you might say—and you have the lucky task of choosing the life.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Shannon Vaughn,” she said. “I understand the two of you have become quite…close during the time you’ve spent together. I have to wonder how close, how much she means to you.”
More than he’d ever wanted or expected. More than anything else in the world. But there was no way he would admit his feelings to the woman who’d threatened to kill them both.
“Get to the point.”
“The point is that you have a decision to make—who means more to you—the woman currently sharing your bed…or your sister?”
He didn’t—couldn’t—speak.
“Think about it, Michael. Think about the choice you’ll make this time. I’ll call you back in half an hour.”
“Wait—”
“Half an hour,” she said again, then disconnected the call.
The next twenty minutes were a complete blur in Shannon’s mind.
From the moment Michael hung up the phone, he’d been in constant motion. He’d made call after call. To the direct extension of his sister’s office, which connected to her voice mail. To Rachel’s cell phone, and her voice mail again. Then, finally, in despair and desperation, to Detective Garcia.
Now his hotel room was filled with people, planning and strategizing, trying to anticipate A.J.’s next move. Through it all, Michael remained calm, outwardly controlled.
But Shannon knew it was a facade. It couldn’t be anything else. Inside, he had to be torn apart by the thought of Rachel in danger, and furious that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
She thought about how crazy she’d been when she’d heard—secondhand and after the fact—about Natalie being taken hostage by Zane Conroy. Even knowing her sister was safe hadn’t alleviated the stark terror of imagining how she must have felt to be held at knifepoint.
She knew that what Michael was going through right now had to be a hundred times worse.
If A.J. had asked for any amount of money, she knew he would gladly have paid. But A.J. had asked for something he felt honor-bound to protect: Shannon’s life.
It was Garcia’s idea to bring in a female police officer—Laura Flaherty—who was of similar height and stature to Shannon. He believed that with a wig to approximate Shannon’s hair length and color, Flaherty would resemble Shannon closely enough to fool A.J. at a distance. As soon as A.J. got close enough to recognize the mistake, Flaherty would take her into custody.
It sounded like a reasonable enough plan, except for one thing.
“She doesn’t expect you to accept her offer.” Shannon took Michael aside to warn him. “A.J. will never believe it if you agree to the trade. She’ll know you’re setting a trap for her.”
“Then why would she have made the offer?” he asked.
As certain as she was that A.J. had no intention of dealing one hostage for another, she hadn’t been able to come up with a satisfactory answer to that question.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe she did it just to torment you. To make you think you have to make a choice.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t think it’s that complicated. Lisa wants revenge for her brother’s death. She’s not thinking about anything else.”
“You’re underestimating her. You still see her as the woman you knew in Righaria. A woman you were once intimately involved with. And because of that, you don’t want to accept what she’s capable of.”
“She won’t hurt Rachel,” Michael said. “It won’t gain her anything.”
Shannon wished she had the same confidence, but she couldn’t forget Detective Garcia telling them about the four undercover operatives A.J. had killed. Maybe it had been a desperate attempt to earn her brother’s respect. Maybe it had been a way to establish a reputation for herself. Or maybe she’d killed simply because she could.
“You’re not looking at this objectively,” she warned.
“It’s hard to be objective when my sister’s life has been threatened.”
She understood his frustration, and she hated that she was the cause of it. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“You’re emotionally involved with Lisa, too. Your past with her is interfering with your ability to see the situation clearly.”
“I can’t believe she would harm Rachel,” he said again. “It’s not that I don’t believe she’s capable—I just can’t let myself consider the possibility.”
She knew what he was going through. It wasn’t that long ago that her own sister’s life had been in danger.
“I would do anything for Rachel,” he continued. “Anything but make the trade Lisa asked for.”
Shannon nodded. “Don’t you think Lisa knows that?”
He met her gaze, finally allowing her a brief glimpse of the pain she knew was tearing him apart inside.
“I just need to concentrate on the plan to get her back,” he said. “I can’t let myself consider that this might end any other way.”
“It won’t.” It wasn’t an empty reassurance but a promise, and she would do anything to keep it. “While you’re discussing strategy with t
he cops, I’m going into the other room to make a phone call.”
He caught her hand as she turned to leave the room. “Who are you calling?”
She hated to lie to him but knew her deception was necessary. “My mother.”
He frowned. “I thought she was on her honeymoon.”
“They flew back last night,” she told him. “And with everything going on…I just want to talk to her.”
“Okay,” he relented.
Shannon slipped into her room through the adjoining door, pulling it closed. Her heart was pounding fiercely, her palms were damp.
She glanced at the clock—7:54.
She rubbed her palms down the front of her new shorts.
It was possible that she was the one who’d misjudged A.J., that she was waiting for a call that wouldn’t come. But she didn’t think so.
Why had A.J. taken Rachel? Was she a decoy—to divert Michael’s attention so she could get to Shannon? Or bait—to bring Shannon out of hiding?
It was 7:56.
She sat down behind the desk and tried to will the phone to ring. Except that she wasn’t sure she wanted it to. Not really. What she really wanted was for Michael and Detective Garcia to come up with some foolproof plan that would bring Rachel back safely and put A.J. behind bars forever.
But it did ring, startling her from her introspection and confirming her fears. She grabbed the receiver, tried to ignore that her fingers were trembling as she brought it to her ear.
“H-hello?”
“I thought you might be expecting my call.”
A.J. sounded pleased, and Shannon faltered at the obvious satisfaction in her voice. She’d warned Michael that the offer from A.J. was a game, and she was playing right into it. Though she was even more wary now, she was determined to see it through.
“I figured if you knew where to find Michael, you’d know where to find me,” she said.
“Clever girl.”
“Where’s Rachel?”
“If I told you that, it would spoil all my fun.”
“Is that what this is—fun?”
“It’s certainly entertaining to see what’s going on in that room. All those cops, plotting and planning.”
Shannon twisted the phone cord between her fingers. Was A.J. only guessing that Michael would have called the police? Or did she somehow know exactly what was happening next door? Had she planted some kind of listening device in the room? Did she have the hotel under visual surveillance?
“It would be even more entertaining to send a little gift to the party,” A.J. continued. “Maybe a bullet straight into the center of Michael’s chest.”
Shannon swallowed back nausea. She refused to believe that A.J. could see him, target him. She had to be bluffing. “If you’re in a position to shoot him right now, you could just as easily shoot me. Why haven’t you?”
“I’ve never been fond of execution from a distance,” A.J. said. “It’s so impersonal.”
The smug tone was really starting to get on her nerves. “Then why don’t you tell me what it is you want me to do?”
“I want you to make the trade we both know Michael won’t.” A.J. paused a moment, letting the words sink in.
“If I agree to this, you’ll let Rachel go?”
“Of course,” A.J. promised. “And, as an extra bonus, I’ll let your lover live.”
Shannon didn’t hesitate. “Where should I meet you?”
“At the Clam Digger in half an hour.”
“What is that? Where is it?”
“It’s an abandoned warehouse south of the marina. Take a cab to the corner of Walkerton and Rexford Streets, then walk three blocks north.”
She scribbled the name and directions onto the message pad and glanced at the clock again. Taking a deep breath to steady the quiver of nerves in her belly, she tore the page and tucked it into her pocket.
“One more thing,” A.J. said. “If I see anyone else near that building—I don’t care if it’s a homeless beggar or a lost tourist—Rachel will die.”
While Michael was strategizing with the police who had established a temporary command post in his hotel room, Shannon alternated between trying to figure out how to slip away and second-guessing her agreement to meet with A.J.
She wanted to tell Michael about A.J.’s call. She knew he would do anything to get Rachel back safely and with the resources of the Miami P.D. in this room, she had to believe they could do it. Why should Shannon risk her life to meet a woman who’d already shown not just an ability to kill but an affinity for murder?
Because A.J.’s phone call to Shannon proved she had no intention of making a trade with Michael. And Shannon knew that A.J. wouldn’t hesitate to kill Michael’s sister, just as she knew that losing Rachel would kill something inside of him. She’d seen the look on his face when he’d learned that A.J. had kidnapped his sister—the pain and fear and helplessness.
He’d quickly shut down his emotions, forcing them aside to concentrate on what needed to be done. But she recognized that his apparent detachment was only a coping mechanism to get through this period of uncertainty.
She also knew that the sense of responsibility he still carried over Brent’s death was nothing compared to the guilt that would eat at him if something happened to his sister.
If Shannon didn’t show up to meet A.J. as planned, Rachel would be killed. It was a risk she couldn’t take. Not when she had the opportunity to prevent it.
Taking a deep breath to bolster her flagging courage, Shannon went to Michael, touching his arm to get his attention.
“I’m feeling pretty useless here,” she told him. “I’m going to slip into the other room to take a shower.”
He frowned. “Now?”
She shrugged. “I just need a few minutes to think without all these people around.”
He linked their hands together. “You know I don’t like the idea of you being out of my sight for even a minute.”
Despite everything that was going on with his sister right now, there was genuine concern for her in his voice. Because he did care about her. And although she hated knowing he would be hurt by her deception, there really was no other way.
Her throat tightened, and she leaned her head against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. “I’d prefer to shower without all these people hanging around outside the bathroom.”
“Okay,” he agreed with obvious reluctance. Then he touched his lips to hers. “Be quick.”
She started to turn away, but the possibility that this might be the last time she ever saw him was more than she could bear. This time she kissed him, trying to tell him what was in her heart without the words that were stuck in her throat.
When she drew back, there were tears on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry that your sister got dragged into this.”
He gently brushed the moisture away. “It isn’t your fault, Shannon.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No. And Rachel is going to be fine. I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”
She nodded and made her way to the bathroom, conscious of his eyes tracking her progress through the open door that connected the two rooms until Officer Flaherty addressed him, drawing his attention away.
She turned on the shower, twisting the tap to adjust the water temperature. As if it mattered whether the water was hot or cold when she had no intention of stepping under the spray. It was merely a diversion so that she could slip out of the hotel to meet with A.J. And then…
She felt her stomach heave, fought against the wave of nausea. There was no point in speculating about what would happen after that.
She wished there was a way she could take Michael’s gun to her meeting. She knew he’d locked it inside the safe, but she didn’t know the combination he’d programmed, and, even if she did, she couldn’t risk going back into the other room. Odd that she’d felt so uncomfortable the first time he’d put the gun in her hands, and now she was desperate for the reassurance of its pow
er. It would be easier to face A.J. with a weapon.
She glanced around the bathroom, looking desperately for something—anything—that might be useful.
Hairspray? If she got close enough to A.J., she might be able to spray it in her face, temporarily blinding her. But the shape of the trial-size can made it difficult to hide.
Nail clippers? Mouthwash? She gave up, forced to admit she would have nothing but her wits to take into this final showdown with A.J. Still, she wasn’t going to back down.
She took a deep breath and counted to ten, slowly. Peeking through a crack in the door, she found the room empty, Michael obviously was still occupied next door. She locked the bathroom door then slipped out, pulling it closed behind her.
Her heart was pounding so hard against her ribs it hurt. How long would Michael wait before checking on her? How much time did she have before he’d notice she was gone?
Shannon could only hope it would be long enough to get out of the hotel and flag down a taxi.
She still didn’t have any identification or money, except for the ten dollars she’d slipped out of his wallet earlier. Hopefully, that would be enough to get her to the waterfront.
She didn’t worry about return fare.
Chapter 15
It didn’t seem to matter to Garcia or the rest of the Miami P.D. that it was Mike’s sister who’d been abducted. As soon as he’d called them in, they’d taken over. At first he’d been annoyed; now he was only grateful.
It was impossible for him to think about the situation clearly. He could only trust that they had the experience and expertise to find Rachel and bring her back unharmed while he concentrated on keeping Shannon safe.
He eyed the connecting door between the two rooms, waiting for Shannon to walk through it again. He knew she was concerned about Rachel and he’d expected that she’d want to be here, to know what plans were being made to get his sister back.
He glanced at the clock again, frowned.
A.J. had said she would call back in half an hour, and that time had passed nearly fifteen minutes ago.
And what the hell was taking Shannon so long?
He stood up and strode through to the other room. The shower was still running.
Dangerous Passions Page 18
