“Hey,” he said, “you have plans for the next few days?”
“Um,” Emily said, “I don’t think so. Why?”
“I’m taking a few days off, sailing down the coast to Fort Myers,” Alex told her. “We’re lifting anchor in a few hours. Grab a bathing suit and your toothbrush and come along.”
“I thought you weren’t leaving until tomorrow,” she said, her head awhirl. Alex wasn’t supposed to go out sailing until tomorrow evening. What had made him change his plans?
There was sudden silence on the other end of the phone.
“You knew I was going sailing?” Alex finally said. “I don’t remember mentioning it to you.”
“I saw it in your calendar book last night,” Emily said, the palms of her hands sweating. God, did he suspect her of spying on him?
But he laughed, and it seemed genuine. She felt a flood of relief. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “Of course. Well, my plans changed suddenly. I have to leave this afternoon.”
Have to. Why else would he have to, unless he were meeting a shipment of drugs? Emily started sweating again.
She kept her voice light as she asked, “Going fishing again?”
“Fishing?” He was confused.
“Like you did last time,” Emily said, trying hard to sound as if she didn’t suspect him of being a drug smuggler. “In your dinghy, remember?”
“Oh, right, right,” Alex said. “Fishing. Right. Yeah, I definitely will do some fishing.”
Definitely.
The shipment must be coming in tonight.
“How about I have my driver pick you up in about two hours?” he asked.
What should she do? God, the police had wanted to plant a homing device that would help them track the Home Free by sending out a steady stream of beeps and blips over the radio waves. And Jim had talked about having a bug—a voice microphone—hidden on board the yacht. How were they going to do that in the next two hours, especially with Alex’s crew preparing the ship for departure?
“Um…” she said, thinking hard and fast. “Dan’s still in town, and I feel badly about going off without him.”
Alex gave an exaggerated sigh. “He doesn’t want us sleeping together, darling,” he said. “I was hoping we could leave him home.”
“He’s very…protective,” Emily said. “Please, may I ask him to join us?”
“Sure, why not?” Alex said, with a good-natured chuckle. “Bring him along. It’ll be good practice for my self-control. Shall I have my driver get you?”
“No,” Emily said. “No, I have…some errands to run. We’ll meet you over at the Home Free by…what? Two o’clock?”
“Sounds good to me,” Alex said. “See you then.”
Emily slowly hung up the phone.
Jim was going to be mad as hell.
“I’M SORRY, DETECTIVE KEEGAN isn’t here. He hasn’t been in since early this morning.” The large, unhappy-looking uniformed policeman behind the front desk barely even looked up at Emily as he answered her question.
She felt a rising wave of impatience—and fear. What if she couldn’t find Jim? What if he wasn’t available to come on the Home Free with her? Would she have to go by herself?
“Please, can you tell me when he’ll be back,” she said, “or how I can get in touch with him?”
“Nope. Sorry.” The beefy man with the dour expression didn’t sound one bit sorry. He turned away from the counter with his pile of papers and files.
“All right, then,” Emily said evenly, “I’ll talk to Lieutenant Bell instead.”
That got him at least to focus his eyes in Emily’s direction.
“The lieutenant’s tied up at the moment,” he said, and turned to walk out of the room.
“Excuse me,” Emily said loudly, feeling her blood pressure shoot upward from frustration. “I’d like you to tell Lieutenant Bell that Emily Marshall is here to see her, and I’d like you to tell her that now, please.”
“Sarge, Ms. Marshall is helping us with an important case,” a familiar voice said. “I am sure the lieutenant will wish to be interrupted.”
Emily turned around to see Felipe Salazar standing behind her. He’d buttoned his shirt and fixed his tie, but he still looked rumpled and weary.
“What are you doing here?” he said to Emily.
“How’s Jewel?” Emily asked, searching his eyes, hoping he was bringing good news. “Is she out of danger?”
Felipe shook his head tiredly. “No.” He took a deep breath. “They wouldn’t let me near her. I was going crazy, sitting there in the waiting room. I had to do something, so…here I am. Has Diego brought that bastard in yet?”
That bastard—? He meant Jewel’s uncle Hank. “I don’t think so,” she said.
“Lieutenant Bell will see you,” the burly sergeant said, without a trace of apology in his voice. “Do you know where to go?”
“I’ll walk her back,” Felipe told the man, taking her elbow and steering her down the corridor.
Lieutenant Bell greeted Emily at the door to her office. “This morning Detective Keegan told me you wanted off this case,” the older woman said, wasting no time on pleasantries, peering over the tops of her glasses at Emily.
“Well, Detective Keegan was wrong,” Emily replied, unable to keep exasperation from showing in her voice. She could feel Felipe Salazar watching her curiously.
“Sit down.” The lieutenant waved toward a pair of hard wooden chairs placed across from her desk. “I’d like you to come in, too, Detective.”
As Emily and Felipe went into the room, Lieutenant Bell sat behind her desk. She was wearing pants today—loose-fitting khaki-colored slacks that had been tailored to fit her shorter-than-average height. “Keegan seemed to think that the situation had become too dangerous to allow a civilian—”
“Excuse me, Lieutenant,” Emily said, leaning forward in her chair, “but a young girl I know is in the hospital, in intensive care, because of a nasty combination of crack and greed. I can’t sit by and let Alex get away with bringing more cocaine into this city—especially not now. As dangerous as continuing with the investigation might be—and, to be perfectly honest, I believe this sudden higher level of danger is all in Jim Keegan’s mind—I consider it much more dangerous to let Alex go on distributing illegal drugs.”
Bell’s pale eyes studied Emily steadily. Finally she shifted her position, crossing her legs and leaning back in her seat. “Okay, Ms. Marshall,” she said coolly. “Tell me why you’re here.”
Quickly Emily told the lieutenant about Alex’s phone call, and about his invitation for her to join him on the Home Free—and the implication that the drug shipment would be arriving sooner than they all had expected.
“Alex invited Jim along, too,” Emily said. “You know, as Dan, my brother…” She glanced at her watch. It was already quarter past one. She took a deep breath, calming herself. “But I haven’t been able to find Jim, and the ship’s scheduled to sail in forty-five minutes.”
Bell tapped a pencil on her desk. “There’s no way I can get a court order to plant any kind of listening device on Delmore’s yacht before two o’clock,” she said. “But a signal transmitter, or homing device, is a different story. Emily, do you think you can get on the boat, plant the homing device and get off before Delmore sails?”
Get off—?
“I can do it,” Felipe said. “Let me.”
Emily glanced at him. “Alex’s crew double as bodyguards,” she said. “You won’t get within ten yards of the yacht.”
“And if you get on,” Felipe said, “how will you get off?”
“Feigning a stomachache might do the trick,” Bell suggested. “I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who’d want to risk getting seasick on top of some kind of stomach virus. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“This is not a good idea, Lieutenant,” Felipe said. “Jim wanted to keep Emily far away from Alexander Delmore.”
“Do you have any alternativ
e suggestions, Detective?” Bell asked acerbically.
“Yes,” he said. “Wait until next time.”
Emily turned to look at him. “And how many more young girls like Jewel will be hurt or—God help us—killed because of the drugs that’ll be on the streets if we don’t stop Alex today?”
She was playing hardball, and, as she’d known they would, her words hit him deeply.
“Wouldn’t even just one be too many?” she added softly.
She knew from the look on his face that she’d won.
“I want her to wear a wire,” he said tersely to Bell. “And I want to stay close by. I want to listen in. And I want Diego updated on the situation the moment he comes in or calls.”
“Fine,” Bell said shortly. “We don’t have a whole lot of time. Take Ms. Marshall downstairs and get her set up.”
JIM COULDN’T STOP thinking of Emily. He thought about her as he tracked down Jewel’s scumbag of an uncle. He thought about her as he cuffed and Mirandaed the guy and stuffed him into the back seat of his car. He thought about her at every single traffic light. He thought about her as he drove, as he accelerated, as he braked, as he signaled for the turn into the precinct parking lot.
As he opened the back door of his car and motioned for Jewel’s uncle to get out of the car, he thought about the welcoming warmth of Emily’s smile. As he led Jewel’s uncle up the steps and into the police station, he thought about the incredible blue of her eyes, and how with just one look she could make him forget everything and anything but the here and now.
And as he brought his prisoner to the desk to be booked, he thought of the way she had stood watching him in the waiting room at the hospital. He couldn’t keep from thinking about the hurt in her eyes—hurt he alone was responsible for putting there. And that hurt wasn’t going to disappear just because he disappeared.
He should have stayed away from her.
He should have, but he hadn’t.
As Uncle Hank was led away to be fingerprinted and photographed, Jim closed his eyes, resting his head on his folded arms on top of the counter, for the first time all day allowing himself the luxury of imagining what it would be like to spend the rest of his life with Emily. Each night he’d sleep with her in his arms. Each morning he’d awaken to her soft smile. He’d never spend another moment alone, because even when she wasn’t with him he’d carry her in his heart.
But that was only wishful thinking. Because no matter how much he wanted to turn that pipe dream into reality, the fact was, he couldn’t escape the guilt and the blame.
All he could do now was stay the hell away from Emily, and hope to God that this time he hadn’t hurt her beyond repair.
“Keegan.”
Jim looked up to see Sergeant Curt Wolaski glaring at him from the other side of the counter. The big man tossed a folded piece of paper down in front of Jim. “Message from your pal Salazar,” he said.
“Thanks,” Jim said, but the sergeant had already turned away.
He unfolded the note and read it. And let out a stream of curses so pungent that heads turned in his direction from all over the room. Damn it, was Emily crazy? Did she want to get herself killed?
Fear hit him deep in his gut, and he turned and ran for the parking lot and his car.
His boots pounded the hot pavement, and his lungs strained as he pushed himself to the limit. He opened the car door and jumped in behind the wheel. He started the car with a roar, and threw it into gear before the engine had even finished turning over.
With a squeal of tires, Jim pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, heading toward the harbor—and Emily.
All his good intentions, all his plans to stay away from her, went right out the window. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and convince himself that she was safe.
EMILY HADN’T BEEN free from Alex’s company since she’d come on board the Home Free. She was carrying the homing device in her purse, but she hadn’t had even the smallest opportunity to plant it somewhere on the yacht.
“Are you sure your brother said he’d meet you here at the harbor?” Alex asked again, scanning the crowded docks impatiently.
“He said he’d be here,” Emily lied, hoping against hope that Jim would suddenly appear. He still hadn’t checked in at the precinct when Felipe dropped her off here, so there was no way he could have known to come down to the marina. Still, she couldn’t help hoping.
“We really have to get going,” Alex said.
Emily glanced at her watch—it was five after two. “Can’t you give him another ten minutes?” she asked.
He didn’t look happy. “Emily, to be perfectly honest, I’ve got a deadline….” His voice trailed off, and he looked uncomfortable, as if he were aware he’d said too much.
“Five minutes?” she said. “Please?”
She knew what she had to do. She had to go down to the head and use the privacy the tiny bathroom provided to hide the homing device in there. Then she’d come back on deck, the five minutes would have passed, Jim still wouldn’t have appeared, and she’d regretfully tell Alex she couldn’t desert her brother—she’d have to stay behind. She’d sadly wave goodbye as Alex sailed off down the coast, toward his illegal rendezvous, with the homing device signaling his every move to the police and the Coast Guard.
It just might work.
Alex cursed under his breath, and Emily looked up at him, surprised. She followed his line of vision to the end of the dock, where a familiar-looking dark-haired man, followed by several large men who looked like bodyguards, was walking toward them.
Emily felt a wave of panic, and she took a steadying breath. “Isn’t that Vincent Marino?” she asked for Felipe’s benefit, knowing he was listening in via the tiny radio microphone that was hidden in the delicate metal petals of the rose-shaped silver pin he’d given her to wear.
“Yeah,” Alex said shortly. “It sure is.”
“Were you expecting him?” Emily asked.
“Nope,” Alex said. He looked scared. He looked the way she felt—like he wanted nothing more than to start running and not look back.
For one brief, crazy moment, Emily actually considered leaping over the side of the boat into the murky waters of the harbor. But before she could move, Marino was climbing on board the Home Free to stand right beside her, and her opportunity was gone.
“Mr. Delmore,” Marino said with feigned politeness. He turned to look at Emily. “And Miss Marshall. A pleasure, as always. News of your upcoming nuptials was in the morning paper. May I offer my congratulations?”
“Get the hell off my yacht,” Alex snarled. His hands were shaking, and he didn’t look half as confident as he sounded.
Marino shook his head, making soft tsking sounds. “Such manners,” he said. “It’s a wonder you got anywhere in the business world.”
“Get off,” Alex said again, “or I’ll have you thrown off.”
There was sweat on his upper lip.
Emily was in way over her head. Jim had been right. She was foolish to have tried this.
Marino laughed at Alex. It was a harsh, ugly sound.
“Cast off,” he ordered Alex’s crew. “We’re going for a little sail. A little pleasure cruise. That all right with you, Delmore?”
It was not all right. Alex snapped his fingers. “Throw them over the side,” he ordered his crew. But no one came to his aid. They all just continued preparing the yacht for departure. His voice rose with outrage and fear. “I said, get them out of here. Protect me. Do your jobs!”
Marino just kept laughing. “They are doing their jobs,” he said. “They work for me now. You really should pay higher wages, Delmore. Didn’t you know loyalty is directly related to the size of a paycheck?”
The sky was a hazy blue, and the sun glared off the gleaming wooden deck. The harbor was bustling with activity—there were people walking not five yards from the Home Free. It was the middle of the day, in a public place. It didn’t seem possible that
they were being kidnapped or hijacked or yacht-jacked, or whatever this was. But the hard-edged glint in Vincent Marino’s eyes was frightening. Emily had an awful feeling that if she didn’t get off here and now, she wasn’t ever going to get off the yacht—at least not alive.
She walked calmly toward the gangplank. “Alex, it looks like Dan isn’t going to make it,” she said, unable to hide the breathlessness of fear in her voice, “so I better stay home. Call me when you get back—”
Marino grabbed her by the arm and pushed her none too gently toward one of the lounge chairs that were open on the deck. He shoved her down into it.
“Sorry, babe,” he said. “But you’re coming along for the ride.”
Emily opened her mouth and screamed, but Marino was next to her in a flash, silencing her by covering her mouth with his beefy hand. He pressed a deadly-looking knife against her side, down where no one on the dock or the other ships could see it, and she felt the tip prick her.
“Next time you scream,” he told her, almost matter-of-factly, “I’ll give you something to scream about, you understand?”
Emily nodded slowly.
FELIPE SALAZAR shouted into the radio.
“I know we didn’t think we’d need the boat until later, but we need it now, damn it,” he said. “I called three hours ago, and you said you had a powerboat. You didn’t say anything about the fact that its engine was lying in pieces on the dock—”
“We’ve got the Coast Guard and the harbormaster ready to move in and intercept at the edge of the breakwater,” the dispatcher told him.
“No!” Felipe said, adding several choice comments about that suggestion in Spanish. “Marino’s got a small army of men on that ship. We have to assume they’re armed with semiautomatics. And what do the Coast Guard have? Small handguns, and maybe a tranquilizer rifle? No way do I want to see the outcome of that gun battle, muchas gracias. Besides, we’ve got a civilian on board the Home Free. We don’t want to risk a potential hostage situation.”
“We can get you one of the Coast Guard’s speedboats,” the dispatcher suggested.
Felipe gritted his teeth. “Oh, that would be most inconspicuous,” he said. “No, I need an unmarked boat, and I need it thirty minutes ago!”
Nowhere to Run Page 21
