by Jordan Dane
It didn’t feel right to leave her in the hands of strangers, even well-meaning ones. Payton supposed no news was good news, and a part of him wanted to find hope in that. But being more pragmatic, he had grown to believe no news only delayed the inevitable of knowing what had actually happened to Nikki.
“How’s Susannah?” Joe asked as Julio retrieved his overnight bag and packed his personal stuff.
Payton knew that for every hour of not knowing, Susannah paid an undeniable price. And by the grim look on Joe’s face, his friend knew it too.
“Not good.” Payton gritted his teeth, fending off the tension headache brewing behind his eyes. “I’m glad you’ll be there. She could use a friend.”
Susannah’s voice had sounded rough on the phone. With every call, Payton had found her more and more on edge as time dragged on without any news. At times, her words slurred and he knew she’d been drinking, but who was he to ask her to quit? She was alone. And with every stone turned aside in that pile of rubble, his sister came closer to confirming her worst fear.
He could only imagine what was happening from a distance. Being unable to console her left him feeling completely useless. Like when they had lost their parents, Susannah balled up in a cocoon of heartache, feeding off whatever was left inside her, giving up. If anyone reached out to help her, he knew she’d probably ignore them. It was her way of handling grief. This time, Payton wasn’t sure she could survive the ordeal.
And worrying about his sister had shoved his own feelings deeper.
“She’s not the only one who could use a friend.” Joe had a way of reading his mind that was downright spooky. “Keep in touch, son. Call me anytime. I mean it.”
“I will.” He nodded. “Promise.”
With Joe in Alaska, Payton knew he’d be losing a lifeline, but it was for the best. When his friend had asked to be sent home, Payton knew Joe had struggled with his decision. He’d explained that he didn’t want to be a burden in Chicago, with his bum leg, and taking care of Susannah seemed a worthier endeavor than holding a pity party for one. Payton couldn’t help but grin at his justification for leaving the lower forty-eight. Joe feeling sorry for himself was as likely to happen as pro athletes giving up the big bucks and major endorsement deals, to play only for the love of the game.
He stepped back from the door as Julio wheeled Joe into the hallway. “My car’s in visitor parking near the patient pickup area,” he told the male nurse.
“Not so fast. We’ve got a stop to make,” Joe interrupted. “When does the plane leave?”
“We’ve got a little over two hours before the charter takes off. Why?”
“Plenty of time.” The old man grinned and avoided Payton’s eyes. Instead, he stared ahead and directed the nurse with a wave of his hand. “Straight ahead, Julio, my friend.”
To Payton, he added, “I promised Jessie that she could see me off and that you’d take her home after. She’s being released today.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient?” Payton narrowed his eyes at his friend.
“Yeah, I thought so.”
Jess had signed the last of her hospital release forms and finished packing her overnight bag when a nurse entered the room. Her name tag read LORENA, but she had heard others call her “Smitty.” The woman had a voice full of gristle and rolled a wheelchair into the room to haul her to the curb. Unruly short blond hair and sharp eyes tempered with humor gave character to the face of a woman dressed in a crisp white uniform with sensible shoes.
“No thanks. I can walk.”
Jess barely looked up, but stopped when she heard, “Sorry, honey. Hospital policy.” Lorena smirked, undaunted by Jess’s best grimace.
“You don’t understand. I’ve got friends coming to pick me up. I’ll be okay.” Jess forced a smile. “Save the wheels for someone who really needs ’em.”
“Glad to hear you’ve got friends, honey. We should all be so lucky. But I’ve never lost this argument and I don’t intend to start a losing streak today.” The nurse had a glint of amusement in her eyes, clearly enjoying Jess’s challenge.
“I wouldn’t argue with her, Jessie. Around here, Smitty’s got a reputation. They call her Nurse Ratched and she scares the hell out of me.”
In the doorway, Payton stood with arms crossed, behind his friend Joe, who sat in a wheelchair and was accompanied by a Hispanic male nurse. If Payton and his friend couldn’t buck the system, how did she stand a chance?
At the sound of Payton’s voice, the crusty nurse rolled her eyes and fought back a smile.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, young man.” She waggled a finger. “If you didn’t have such a cute tush, I might take offense and say póg mo thóin.”
Jess had heard the Gaelic phrase before and knew it meant “Kiss my arse.” She shook her head and grinned for real this time.
“Do you mind if I roll her out of here? I swear…” Payton made a quick cross over his heart. “…she won’t budge from the chair until she’s free of the building. Deal?”
“Only ’cause it’s you, Payton Archer.” The nurse heaved a sigh, pretending to be perturbed. “And I’m holding you to your word.”
The nurse clutched his hand in both of hers, and in a serious tone added, “We’re gonna miss you guys. Have a safe trip back to Alaska, Joe. And Payton? You and your family will be in my prayers.”
“Thanks, Smit. That means a lot.” He kissed her cheek and the woman blushed, giving Jess a glimpse of the young woman she used to be.
“Now go on. This place is for sick people.” The nurse shooed them out.
Complying with Smitty’s orders, Payton helped her into the wheelchair and pushed her down the corridor. When they got far enough away, Jess made her move.
“Is she looking?” Gaping over her shoulder, Jess shifted in her seat, trying to catch a glimpse of her nurse. “I’m blessed with two good legs that work. As soon as I get in the elevator, we’re ditching the wheels.”
“We’re doing no such thing, Ms. Beckett. I made a promise to Smitty, and I’m a man of my word…most days.” As he pushed her wheelchair, Payton held her down with a strong hand on her shoulder, not letting her up. “Don’t make me duct-tape you into this thing.”
“When he gets like this, it’s best to humor him.” Joe winked as he rolled alongside, pushed by his nurse. “Besides, he’s wicked with duct tape.”
“Who says he needs duct tape for that?” she muttered, and slumped into her seat.
When they got to Payton’s SUV rental, Joe had insisted Jess take the front passenger seat since he needed the backseat to put his leg up and stash his crutches. Jess had a sneaking suspicion Joe was playing matchmaker, but she didn’t know the man well enough to make that assumption.
At the airport, she got out and stretched her legs, unsure whether she should give Payton some time alone with his friend. But both men made her feel welcome to join them. When it came time for Payton to put Joe on the chartered plane, she was first to say good-bye, making sure Payton had plenty of one-on-one time with his friend. She sat in a chair across the small waiting room of the charter service, gazing out the window and flipping through dated magazines, pretending to ignore the two men within earshot.
“I noticed you left your gun case in the trunk,” Payton said to Joe. “I don’t think I’ll be needing them. Not anymore.”
Joe shrugged and fished a key to the case from his pocket. “So return them when you get home. No big deal.”
Payton took a deep breath and lowered his head. “Susannah…tell her how much I love her. And that I’ll call…”
The words coming out of his mouth sounded forced, as if he was avoiding a deeper underlying fear, that saying it aloud might make it real.
“I hate leaving you here, especially now,” Joe said. “But I’m no good to you like this. And Susannah will probably need someone there when—” He stopped himself.
“When we hear, I may need you to help me make arrangements…to bring Nikki home.” A
fter a long moment, Payton hugged the man who stood with the help of crutches.
“I love you, old man.”
“I love you too, son.” Joe closed his eyes.
The two men held each other, sharing what couldn’t be captured in words. When Joe pulled from his arms, he wiped a tear from Payton’s face, an endearing gesture that seemed natural between them—something a father would do for a son.
Payton walked Joe out to the plane and helped him on board. He came back to the waiting room and stood next to her in silence, watching as the charter pulled away and later took off. For a moment Jess didn’t know if he remembered she was there at all. And although she tried not to read too much into the man, it was hard not to respect his open display of emotion for someone he loved like family. That much was very clear. And Payton made no excuses for his sentiment, nor did he make light of it like most men might.
When he was ready, Payton fixed his blue eyes on her and with his deep honeyed voice, smooth as Kentucky Bourbon, he said, “Now why don’t you tell me where you live?”
Jess knew she was reading way more than Payton’s sad eyes conveyed, but in the instant he focused on her, her world faded to bright white and the sounds of plane engines muffled to nothing. All she heard was the smooth drizzle of his voice. And she felt drawn to the warmth of his body, wanting nothing more than to feel her fingers on his skin and to explore the extent of his tan lines. But reality brought all her enticing images to a grinding halt.
“Yeah…right. Home.”
Images of the dump she called home flashed in her mind, especially after Lucas Baker added his decorator touches. If that wasn’t enough to deal with, Sam had reminded her that her car had been destroyed in the explosion. Plus, she remembered that the Russian had taken her Colt Python, and thanks to Baker, she didn’t even have a backup gun. Since she’d been chasing that not-so-dearly departed bastard and ignoring her pursuit of bounty, she had no cash flow. Marginal though it was, her life had taken a dive into the dumper.
But you ain’t the only one who’s got it rough, sweetheart, she reminded herself.
None of her troubles measured up to Payton and his sister’s. And by the expression on the man’s face, he sure looked as if he could use a friend. And maybe a little hope.
“Why don’t you let me drive, big guy? We need to talk.” Trying not to look too grim, she held out her hand, asking for the keys to the SUV. “But first, I’m hungry and you probably haven’t been eating. You trust me?”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply. He simply complied by handing over his car keys and following her to the SUV.
Jess had no idea how he would take her suspicions regarding the blond mystery woman and an alternate scenario about the explosion, especially after she’d encouraged Payton to accept that Nikki had been a casualty. She hoped a public restaurant might temper his initial reaction and make him more willing to listen to her reasoning.
But no matter what happened, none of what she had to say would be easy for him to hear—especially if his niece were alive and in the hands of a cruel man. With no leads on how to find Nikki, they’d be as powerless as they were the night of the explosion. The Russian held all the cards, backed by a slick and elusive international organization.
They had nothing.
Innocuous mariachi music wafted from the overhead speakers on the outdoor patio of Jalisco Jim’s, a local dive near her neighborhood that had served them a sizzling platter of fajitas to share, along with all the fixings and two mugs of Dos Equis. Under a festive umbrella at a table bordered by a wrought-iron enclosure, she and Payton sat in the far corner of the patio, nearest the back parking lot.
As secluded as the spot was, they were still drawing attention from the other patrons, but she had to get him to consider her scenario of what might have happened the night of the explosion.
“Like you said the other day, if this blond woman got help for me, she would’ve done the same for Nikki if your niece was in the control room. This mystery woman would’ve pulled her out too.” Jessie narrowed her eyes. “Payton, don’t you see? You didn’t leave Nikki behind, because she wasn’t there by the time you found me. She couldn’t have been.”
“Then what happened to her?”
As soon as the question was out of his mouth, a look of dread swept over his face. She could have filled in the blanks for him, but she needed Payton to draw his own conclusions.
“Oh, God.” He fought to say the words. “Maybe those men didn’t leave Nikki behind either.”
Jess shivered with his realization. She reached for Payton’s hand and held it until he looked at her.
“We’re going to find her. I believe Nikki is alive, Payton, and we’ve got a shot at locating her.” She stared into his eyes. “I’ve seen enough proof that Globe Harvest and its obscene network really exists, and that Russian bastard went to great pains to blow up an abandoned textile plant. He wanted to bury the proof of his link to a larger organization, but not all of that proof got burned. We’re gonna find her.”
Payton tightened his jaw and pulled his hand away.
“You’re mad because I held out on you,” she said. “I know how this must sound, but—”
He jumped in, not letting her finish.
“I’m not mad, I just…don’t know what to think.” He shoved back from the table and slouched in his chair, staring at his plate of half-eaten Tex Mex. “If you’re right, what the hell am I going to tell Susannah?”
“You see? That’s why I didn’t say anything before now…until I was…”
“Sure? Until you were sure? Is that what you were going to say?” He shook his head and didn’t wait for her to reply. “Are you still trying to convince yourself…or me?”
Now he did sound angry, his tone infused with frustration.
“We’ve got nothing to go on, Jessie. If she’s out there, still alive, how are we going to find her?” He stared off across the patio and muttered under his breath, “How are we going to find Nikki?”
A million-dollar question—a question for which she had no answer. And by the look on his face, Payton knew it too. Her theory on the blond woman was pure speculation. And yet, without any bodies being recovered from the destroyed factory, they had nothing more substantial to cast a doubt on her rationale.
“Sam told me the FBI is looking into the case. They may have jurisdiction. They’re analyzing the report I took—”
He interrupted her.
“May have jurisdiction?” He threw up his hands and leaned back in his chair. “While everyone is playing by the rules, in the meantime Nikki’s trail is getting colder. And why would the FBI care about one kid…a kid who has a history of running away from home?”
Aware he had spoken too loud and had drawn attention, he lowered his voice.
“This isn’t right, Jessie.”
“For what it’s worth, I’ve got Seth running his own analysis of those pages.” When Payton rolled his eyes, she leaned her elbows on the table and continued, “The FBI is not going to share what they find out, unless they have a solid lead. Even if you are family. Hell, they may not even take the case. As far as I’m concerned, nothing much has changed. We’re on our own, just like before.”
Payton clenched his jaw and stared across the parking lot. She hadn’t connected with him.
“Look, you came here looking for Nikki. She could still be in the area. If Sam hasn’t found any bodies at the debris, there’s a possibility the Russian took her. He must’ve gotten out like the others. When my head cleared enough, I remembered there was a tunnel out the back. I didn’t see where it led, but it was there. Maybe Nikki’s trail isn’t so cold after all.”
Now she had his full attention. He sat up in his chair and propped his elbows on the table, same as her.
“God, you’re right,” he said. Those gorgeous blue eyes had a spark of fire to them.
“Yeah. Occasionally, it’s been known to happen.” She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this…a
lot. A couple of days in a hospital bed will do that.”
Before she threw out more of her theories, her cell phone rang. She recognized the number.
“I gotta take this. It’s Seth.” She couldn’t help but smile at Payton. Hope had finally settled on his face.
Plus, she’d come to trust her quirky but genius sidekick, Seth Harper. If the kid already had a lead, she could add good timing to his list of excellent qualities.
“Hey, Harper. What’s up?”
“Hey, Jess. I just called to tell you the blue monster is yours, at least until you get a new car or settle with your insurance company.”
What he said didn’t register at first.
“Excuse me?” she questioned, but he didn’t stop talking long enough to hear her question.
“I already made arrangements for a loaner—from a friend. So you don’t have to worry about me. I parked my van at your apartment, in the visitor’s section out front. And I left a spare key in an envelope, marked with your name. Your apartment manager said she’d see that you got it.”
“Gosh, thanks, Seth. You didn’t have to do that, but thanks.” She smiled at Payton. He looked anxious, waiting to hear what Harper would report. “How’s that research coming?”
Silence. Seth didn’t answer right away, and when he finally did, he preceded his reply with a heavy sigh. Jess forced a grin for Payton’s benefit and waited for the bad news.
“Not very well. I’ve got nothing. I think there’s a pattern that’s jumbled on the page, but that only implies an infinite number of possible combos. And I don’t have the technology to run all the iterations. I’m not sure where to go from here, but I’m still trying.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, trying to reassure Payton. “Well, stick with it, Seth. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have working on this. I’ll call you later.”
“Did you hear me? I’ve got squat. Nada. Zilch.” She hung up on Seth as the kid strolled down his mental slang dictionary.
