Dangerous Passions

by Brenda Harlen

  He pounded on the bathroom door. “Shannon?”

  There was no response.

  “Shannon!”

  He pounded again, then tried the handle. It was locked.

  He broke the door down.

  The warehouse was an abandoned structure of crumbling blocks and boarded-up windows with Clam Digger Foods spelled out on the side of the building in what had probably once been dark-red paint but had long since faded to pink. Shannon walked around to the back and found a sliding wood door with a rusty metal latch and an oversize padlock, unlocked.

  She hesitated, her heart thudding heavily in her chest.

  This was it—the point of no return. As soon as she walked into this building, she would be completely at A.J.’s mercy.

  Panic, sudden and violent, surged through her veins. She took an instinctive step in retreat.

  She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe.

  The odds that she could beat A.J. at this game might be slim, but she wasn’t going to give up without trying.

  She pushed the heavy wooden door only far enough to slip through the narrow opening.

  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. There were a few windows that weren’t boarded up, but they were too crusted with dirt to allow much light into the dank, airless building.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” A.J. said.

  Shannon started, and turned to see a young attractive woman leaning back against the wall. In the sleeveless floral-print sundress and high-heeled sandals she wore, she didn’t look different from most other women in Miami. Certainly there was nothing about her that suggested she was a cold-blooded killer.

  Shannon glanced around the barren room, noted the single wooden chair set up in the middle of the room. There was no sign of Michael’s sister, nothing else but dust and cobwebs. “Where’s Rachel?”

  “She’s at a secure location not too far from here.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Sedated, but otherwise unharmed.”

  Shannon wanted to be relieved, but she didn’t trust this woman. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  “You don’t,” A.J. said evenly. “You’re just going to have to trust that I’ve lived up to my end of the bargain, as you’ve lived up to yours.” Her lips curved in a cold, cruel smile. “Or maybe that’s a poor choice of words, under the circumstances.”

  Shannon held her breath as A.J. unzipped the purse slung over her shoulder, waiting for the gun. She exhaled softly, silently, when she saw it was a cell phone instead.

  A.J. dialed, a neatly manicured nail punching in a series of numbers, and Shannon let her mind wander.

  Maybe she could stall long enough that Michael would somehow figure out where she’d gone and rescue her. She discarded the thought immediately. Knowing what A.J. was capable of, she didn’t want Michael anywhere near her.

  “Your sister is in Room 310 at the Red Carpet Motel,” A.J. said without preamble when the call was answered.

  Shannon couldn’t hear what Michael’s response was on the other end, but A.J. smiled again.

  “You lost another woman?” Her voice was filled with mock sympathy. “You really should be more careful, Michael.”

  Fury replaced Shannon’s fear.

  She’d come here because she wanted to spare Michael the pain and regret of having to choose between his sister and his assignment. She wasn’t going to let A.J., with a few careless words, make him feel responsible for a choice Shannon had deliberately taken away from him. Impulsively she launched herself at A.J., knocking the woman to the ground.

  The element of surprise was on her side but it was, Shannon quickly realized, the only advantage she would have. A.J. was faster and stronger, obviously trained in combat and completely merciless. Although Shannon managed to land a couple of blows, substantiated by the outraged curses A.J. spewed in her direction, their positions were quickly reversed.

  Even so, she derived a small measure of satisfaction in seeing the red welts on A.J.’s face and the slight swelling of a cheekbone that was already starting to discolor. Until A.J. grabbed a handful of her hair and wrenched her head back so hard she actually saw stars.

  Then she smashed Shannon’s head against the concrete floor and everything went black.

  Mike had never known such helplessness as when he’d burst into Shannon’s bathroom and found it empty.

  Even when Brent had been killed, he’d known immediately what to do. He’d been on a mission, understood the procedure and followed the protocol. And if ever one course of action failed, there was always a contingency plan. It was all about anticipating the variables and being prepared for them.

  But in all of the careful plans he’d made with Garcia and Flaherty, there had been one consistent expectation: that Shannon would stay put. In the hotel, with him, where he knew she would be safe.

  Now she was gone.

  The situation was eerily similar to what had happened on another day, in another hotel.

  “Do you think A.J. got in here somehow?” Flaherty asked.

  “No.” Mike reached into the empty shower stall and turned off the water. The sting of the cold spray was nothing compared to the icy fear that penetrated the depths of his soul. Because this was where the scenario changed. Unlike the first time, when she’d been abducted by Peart, Shannon had walked out of this room of her own free will. Without a single word.

  Of course, he knew why she hadn’t said anything—because there was no way in hell he’d have let her go. And he knew why she’d gone—to find A.J. But he didn’t know why Shannon would confront a woman who wanted her dead.

  “You think she’s gone to meet A.J.,” Garcia guessed.

  Mike nodded.

  “But how would she have known how to contact her?”

  It was something he’d wondered himself. “A.J. must have contacted Shannon.”

  You’re underestimating her, Shannon had said.

  He’d ignored her warning, but Shannon hadn’t made the same mistake. She’d anticipated the call and been here to receive it. She’d told him she was going to call her mother, and he’d believed her.

  “Dammit.” He slammed his fist into the wall and didn’t even wince at the pain that shot up to his elbow from the point of impact.

  He pushed aside the anger and frustration. He needed to clear his mind and refocus his thoughts. He knew that Shannon had gone to meet A.J., but where?

  “I’ll go talk to the doorman at the front,” one of the police officers volunteered. “Maybe he saw her leave, whether she took a cab or went on foot, what direction she was heading.”

  Mike nodded. “If she didn’t leave through the main entrance, we can find that out, too. All of the exterior doors—even the service areas—are monitored with security cameras. We need to find out which exit she took and whether or not she was alone.”

  He sat behind the desk, grabbed a pen to make a list…

  He stared at the notepad in front of him.

  Shannon would have sat at this desk to answer the call—maybe she’d taken notes during the conversation. He ran his fingers over the top page and felt the subtle indentations. “Does anyone have a pencil?”

  Garcia handed him one without question.

  Mike rubbed the lead gently over the top page of the message pad. The imprint was faint, but mostly legible.

  “What’s the Clam Digger?”

  “It’s an old warehouse on Walkerton Street, down by the waterfront,” Flaherty said. “It’s scheduled for demolition next week.”

  Could it be so easy?

  He almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. Easy would have been finding Shannon still in the shower. Figuring out the possible location of her meeting with A.J. didn’t make an impossible situation easy. He only prayed the knowledge made it possible—because Shannon’s life depended on it.

  “That’s where Shannon’s gone to meet A.J.,” he said.

  “Wake up.”

/>   Shannon heard the voice as if from a distance, impatient and demanding, and it made her head hurt. She forced her eyelids open, wincing at the pain.

  “Finally. I was beginning to think I’d killed you.”

  She licked her lips, winced again at the coppery taste of blood. She was seated in the wooden chair she’d noticed earlier, her hands tied behind her back in an unnatural and uncomfortable position. “Isn’t that your plan?”

  “Not like that,” A.J. said. “It would be too easy—you fight like a girl.”

  “I am a girl.”

  “And one willing to fight for her man. I have to say I admire that.”

  “Thanks.” Shannon wondered how she managed sarcasm when her head was in danger of splitting open and her life was counting down to its last moments.

  “And yet I can’t help wondering why you bothered,” A.J. continued. “I’m sure you’re not naive enough to think Michael would ever want a future with a woman like you.”

  “I have no illusions,” Shannon agreed. “I was just in it for the sex.”

  A.J. chuckled. “I like your spirit,” she said. “That’s why I didn’t want to let you die without knowing how.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I don’t like to leave loose ends.” She picked up her purse from the floor, slipped the strap over her shoulder. “I spent a lot of time considering how to kill you. And as much as I’d like to pump a couple of bullets into your gut and watch the life drain out of your body—as the life drained out of my brother’s along with his blood—I decided that was too quick. Instead, I’ve come up with a plan that will both prolong your suffering and ensure my escape.”

  “You really think you’re going to get away with this?”

  A.J. smiled. “The cops have been after me for years. They’ve never been able to pin any charges on me.”

  “But now they know who you are.”

  “That won’t make any difference if they can’t find me.”

  Shannon knew there was no point in trying to reason with an obviously crazy woman. “Are you going back to Righaria?”

  Surprise flickered briefly in A.J.’s cold eyes. “Did Michael tell you about that?”

  “Yeah. He didn’t tell me you were responsible for the attack on his camp, though. I managed to figure that one out on my own.”

  “I’d like to take responsibility,” A.J. admitted. “But I only passed along the relevant information to certain interested parties.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it was an easy way to cement relations with my local contacts.”

  “Were you planning to take over your brother’s business even then?”

  “I never wanted to take it over,” A.J. denied. “Not while Zane was alive. I just wanted to work with him, by his side. But my brother was very traditional in a lot of respects, including his determination to shield me from the more unsavory aspects of his business.”

  “Unsavory?” Shannon echoed in disbelief. “Is that how you would describe drugs and prostitution? Torture and murder?”

  “That’s how Zane would describe them,” A.J. said evenly.

  “And you sold Michael out to impress your brother?”

  “It was a prudent business decision.”

  Shannon felt her stomach churn. “He loved you.”

  A.J. merely shrugged. “It’s a common mistake men make—thinking that women are weak. The truth is, women are their weakness.”

  “I’m sure your brother would be proud to hear you say that.”

  Icy blue eyes narrowed. “My brother would have been proud of everything I’ve done.”

  “Then why didn’t you ever tell him that you were A.J.?”

  “Because he couldn’t accept that I was capable of the things he needed A.J. to do. For example, blowing up this building with you in it.”

  As A.J. crouched down to flick the switch on the timer attached to her chair, Shannon remembered Garcia mentioning that explosives were one of A.J.’s trademarks. The clock started counting down from thirty minutes.

  Was it really going to end like this—without even saying goodbye to Michael? Without seeing her sister married? Without making peace with her mother?

  Of course it was.

  From the moment she’d agreed to this meeting, she’d known it might. But she’d dared to dream that she might somehow triumph over adversity, to believe that she could succeed against A.J. when so many others had failed. In retrospect, she acknowledged the futility of the hope she’d carried in here. And yet, if she was given the choice again, she wouldn’t hesitate to make the same decision.

  For Michael. Because she loved him.

  “There are additional charges already set around the perimeter of the building,” A.J. explained. “All set to go off simultaneously. When the dust has settled, not even dental records will be able to identify your remains.”

  Shannon had to bite down hard to stop herself from pleading for her life. She knew nothing she said would change A.J.’s plan, and begging would only increase the other woman’s satisfaction over her demise.

  “Oh, and just in case you get any ideas about trying to escape, you should know that there is a balance switch under your chair. If you attempt to get up or turn around, if you so much as shift your weight, the switch will be triggered and the bomb will detonate immediately.

  “As further insurance, I have a remote.” She held up the device for Shannon to see. “If anyone comes near the building before my boat is out of sight, I’ll press this button.”

  A.J. glanced at the digital display on the timer. “You have twenty-seven minutes to contemplate your life before the beginning of the end.”

  Then, without so much as a glance over her shoulder, she walked out of the building.

  The door slid shut behind her, blocking out the thin sliver of light that had streamed through the narrow opening and leaving Shannon in darkness.

  Garcia had been barking orders at his men, establishing teams to dispatch to the motel and the warehouse, when Mike raced out of the hotel room. While in the military, he’d learned the importance of teamwork, and he’d respected the chain of command. But he wasn’t in the army anymore, Garcia had no authority over him, and Mike didn’t intend to wait a single minute longer to get to Shannon.

  He had his gun in hand when he slipped around to the back of the old warehouse and saw Lisa securing the lock on the door. Irritation flickered briefly in her eyes before she regained her composure and smiled at him, seemingly oblivious to the weapon trained on her heart.

  “You’re efficient,” she said approvingly. “I expected to be long gone before you got here. Of course, I also thought you’d be more concerned about your sister than your lover.”

  “I’ve covered all the bases.”

  “You sent someone else to the motel.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m afraid that’s going to blow the little surprise I had waiting for you.”

  It was the gleam in her eye as much as the triumph in her voice that gave her away, and he felt his blood turn to ice. “You rigged the motel with explosives.”

  “I never wanted to kill your sister.”

  With his weapon still in one hand, Mike dug his cell phone out of his pocket with the other. He had to contact Garcia, to warn him before someone went charging into Rachel’s room unprepared.

  “It was really just a simple device,” she continued, “easy enough for someone who had demolitions training in the army to identify and neutralize.”

  The phone was ringing, but Garcia wasn’t answering.

  Dammit.

  “It looks like you made the wrong choice, Michael. Again.”

  He tamped down on the emotions, forced his mind to clear. Officer Flaherty was going to the Red Carpet Motel. She was an experienced cop with good instincts, and she knew about A.J.’s penchant for explosive devices. Mike had to believe that she wouldn’t take any action without first evaluating the situation. He needed to trust that the cops could take care of Rach
el so that he could concentrate his attention on Shannon.

  “Why did you target Shannon? And Rachel? Is it because of me?”

  She smiled again. “The male ego never ceases to amaze me. As if I haven’t had more important things to do than plot an elaborate scheme of vengeance against a man who didn’t mean anything more to me than a distraction from boredom.”

  “Good to know,” he said. “Now I won’t feel any remorse about you spending the rest of your life in a cell.”

  “Are you arresting me, Michael?”

  “I’ll leave the technicalities to Detective Garcia. He’s on his way.”

  She glanced at the watch on her wrist, frowned. “I hope he won’t be too long. There isn’t much time left before the building blows—and your girlfriend along with it.”

  He fought against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He needed to be cool, rational. It was the only chance he had.

  “Unlock the door, Lisa.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have the key.”

  His eyes narrowed. “How much time?”

  She glanced at her watch. “About fifteen minutes now—give or take. Less if I press this little button.”

  He felt a bead of sweat slide down his spine as he eyed the remote in her hand. “If you set off the explosives, we’ll all die.”

  “It beats going to prison, and if those are my only choices…” Her words trailed off deliberately.

  “What do you want, Lisa?”

  “That’s my ride at the dock. If you let me go, I’ll leave you with this and the remote possibility—” she smiled at her own joke “—that you can save her before the building falls down on both of you.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Give it to me.”

  “Not yet.” She held it out of reach. “Not until I’m in the boat.”

  He was tempted just to pull the trigger. He knew she wouldn’t be quick to press the button—she didn’t really want to die. She wanted to escape, to walk away from the havoc she’d wreaked and rebuild the headquarters of her organization somewhere else. But he wasn’t willing to gamble Shannon’s life on it.

  “It’s decision time, Michael.”