Chantal, Jillian - Surfer Bride (BookStrand Publishing Romance)
Page 10
Her chin jutted out. “No. Just tired of being treated like a dirty animal. I’d like some dignity back. Is that so hard to understand?”
Finn said, “No. It’s not.” He turned to Clarkson. “See if you can arrange it with the commandant.”
Clarkson left the room followed by the interrogator. When they were alone, Finn looked at Quincy for a moment. “Don’t say anything, Miss Holt. It’s in your interest to say nothing until you’re out of this country.”
She got the hint. She looked at the wall and not at Finn. She sat silently until Clarkson came back.
* * * *
It broke Finn’s heart to look at Quincy as she sat at the table. He could tell it was an effort for her to sit there and not open her mouth. She was as American as they came and used to speaking her mind. This country wasn’t the place for that. Women didn’t have the same freedoms here as they did at home. He prayed she could keep her mouth shut until they were in international air space. She could easily blow the whole operation. He was so scared for her and the consequences she could face if he didn’t get her out of Bali, and he couldn’t tell her any of it.
He took in her appearance. She did look the worse for wear. He didn’t think they’d manhandled her, but she looked like she’d had a rough time of it. She looked forlorn and wan. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a mess. I hope to God they let her have a chance to clean up. She’s right. It is a long trip to Los Angeles. He knew he had to get her out of Bali as soon as he could. The longer they delayed, the more the chance they wouldn’t be allowed to leave at all. He shuddered at the thought of having to leave her here.
He couldn’t take the time to take her somewhere to shower. There would be a barrage of national media in the arrivals area of LAX and she really needed a shower. It won’t do to have her looking like she does now. She’ll never live it down. The pictures would be plastered all over the television and the internet.
He had to keep up the façade of taking her into custody until they could leave the police station. Hell, till they left the country. It was killing him. He leaned with his back to the wall and tried not look in her direction. He tried to look nonchalant as his gut roiled in fear for her. Damn, all I want to do is grab her and comfort her and I can’t.
After what seemed to Finn like hours in the silent room, Nathan Clarkson finally came back. “She can have a shower, but one of us has to watch her because all the matrons are gone to the yard with the other inmates.”
Quincy looked up at Clarkson in horror and gasped. She shook her head. “No. No way.”
Finn walked over and knelt in front of her chair. “Listen, you know I don’t want to make you shower in front of me or Clarkson over there.” He tilted his head in the direction of the attaché. “But think about this. LAX arrivals area. Media everywhere. Your notoriety drawing the cameras.”
Finn stopped to let that soak in. “In five years, you’re fine and dandy. Maybe even celebrating the birth of your first child. When they show you, the one time world champion surfer, in a happy moment, they drag out this old footage. What do you want to look like? A dirty criminal who’s obviously been held in a hell hole, or do you want to look clean and well presented?” He laughed a little. “It all boils down to image, baby. And I know you know about image.” He flicked her dirty hair. “For instance, this hair you’d like to cut off. That’s your image.”
Clarkson came over to where they were and whispered, “Decide already. We gotta make a move for you two to make that flight. Like now.” Clarkson was as tense as Finn. They both knew how tenuous the situation was.
Her decision made, Quincy stood. “Let’s get me clean. Fi—” She stopped herself from using his first name. “I mean, Agent Smith. I’ll agree that you can stay in the shower room with me. But you have to promise not to look at me. It’s perverse that they’re requiring it anyway.”
“As a law enforcement officer, I have to tell you that they do it so prisoners don’t try to get away or hurt themselves.”
Her laugh was a short bark. “Harm myself with soap? And am I supposed to run away naked from a fortress like this?” She waved her hand to indicate the building.
“You’d be surprised, ma’am.” Finn held out his hand to her. “Let’s get you to the showers.”
Clarkson left them at the door to the shower room. “I’ll be in the commandant’s quarters. Come soon.” He turned to Quincy before he walked on. He whispered in her ear, “Be sure to hurry. You’re not out of the woods yet. Take the fastest shower known to man if you want to go home in this lifetime.”
She nodded. The urgency of his words terrified her all over again.
She and Finn went in to the showers. The room was another large square space. It had blue tiled walls and floors. There were seven shower heads coming from the walls. Each shower area had a soap dish connected to the wall under where the water flowed. There were no curtains on the stalls. There was really one large area with several shower heads and no place for curtains.
On one wall was a series of shelves and hooks. Damp towels hung on some of the hooks. Finn grabbed a dry towel off one of the shelves and handed it to Quincy. “Go ahead while I try to find you a clean jumpsuit.”
“Why can’t I have my own clothes?”
He turned from his search of the shelves. “Miss Holt, were you in that room earlier? Were you really in that room? Your mind, I mean?”
She glared at him, hands on hips. “Yes. Why?”
“You heard the man. You’re leaving here in a jumpsuit and chains. I suggest you get with it if you want to ever leave Bali. And do it while I’ve got my back turned so I won’t look, since you seem so shy.” He turned back to the shelf to look for a jumpsuit and, over his shoulder, added, “And think about how many showers you might have to take with a group of women and guards watching you if you don’t hurry up. The shyness would end pretty fast then, I bet.”
She stripped down and turned on the water. The water sluiced over her as she stood still under the flow.
Finn couldn’t help himself. He’d found a jumpsuit that he knew would fit her and as soon as he had it in his hand, he turned to look at her. Bad mistake. She stood there like a goddess, her back to him. Her lovely rounded bottom just begged to be caressed. God, she was so beautiful. Just like he remembered. How the hell am I going to make it on the flight with her beside me without taking her in my arms? I’m in trouble here. Just like Coop said. Deep trouble. He felt himself grow hard and was grateful that he held the jumpsuit in front of him.
Quincy turned off the water and before she turned to grab the towel, Finn turned around himself so she wouldn’t see him ogling her. That wouldn’t do. He’d promised her not to look. She would feel violated if she knew he had, more violated than he bet she already did.
Quincy yelled over to him. “It’s safe to turn around. I’m in a towel.”
He turned and realized it wasn’t safe. True, she was in a towel, but it was not a real towel. It was more like a half towel. It covered her nipples but just barely. It left all of her legs exposed up to the tops of her thighs. Those legs. The strong, shapely surfer’s calves. He’d always loved those legs. How they could wrap themselves around his waist and squeeze tight. He couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped.
At the sound and the look on his face, she darted over and snatched the jumpsuit out of his hands. “Turn around while I put this on. I’ll be watching you, so you better not look.”
He complied with her request, mainly so he could get himself under control. It was imperative to get her out of the country with no one knowing they’d been lovers. He could blow this right now. Get it under control, Smith, if you want to rescue the woman. Don’t blow it now with your uncontrolled lust.
When Quincy was dressed and had slid back on the sandals she’d been issued by her jailers, she said, “Okay. It’s clear. Let’s get out of here.” She pulled her hair out of the back of the jumpsuit. It was still a mess, and she had no comb.
“Yeah. I know.” She grimaced.
“Then let’s do it.”
She nodded. They left the shower area and joined the commandant and Clarkson.
Chapter Eight
“Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist?”
A. E. Housman (English poet, 1859-1936)
The chains were ready. They sat on a bench beside the doorway that led from the lock down area of the jail to the main outer lobby. Quincy looked down at the pile of metal with what looked like a leather strap and shuddered. Just the thought of all that on her body caused her to cringe. She took a deep breath. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Finn took the longer chain from the bench. He clasped one of the handcuffs on her and hooked the belly chain to the hole in the metal, wrapped the chain around her stomach twice and then hooked the leather bindings behind her back, tightening the bindings to her waist size. Once that was done, he closed the padlock on the manacles, stood behind her and hooked the other hand cuff to the chain, leaving about eight inches of loose chain so she could move her hands a bit. Finn then put that cuff on her and clicked it shut. Then he grabbed the other set of chains from the chair and knelt down, cuffed her one ankle before measuring a distance of about fourteen inches. This was a distance that would allow her to walk. He attached the extra length upward to the belly chain and finished by clicking the other ankle bracelet closed.
He looked up at her. “Gather the excess chain in your hand and see if I gave you enough room to walk. Shuffle. Don’t run.”
At least he’d cuffed her in front. She didn’t understand why at first until he told her to grab the chain. She did and was able to make tiny steps.
The interrogator came over to Quincy and tested her restraints. He looked at the brand of cuffs. “At least you used the Hiatt’s and not the Peerless brand. If you’d used Peerless, I could prove you were breaking her out. We all know Peerless cuffs can be defeated.” He looked Quincy up and down and turned to Finn. “I note you don’t have a shock belt on her. Why not?”
“If you must know, the Agency didn’t think she was violent. Didn’t think we’d need the electric belt. We figured she’d be docile.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe your Agency wouldn’t think a firearms smuggler would be dangerous. No matter how small she is. Perhaps I should call your supervisor.”
Finn looked at the man and calmly said, “Go ahead. Here’s his number.” He handed the interrogator his boss’s card. “But you’ll have to do it without me here. I have a plane to catch.”
Finn turned to the commandant. “Can we go?”
The commandant nodded. “Yes.”
Finn said, “Then let’s get the van and get to the airport.”
They walked out of the jail, Quincy between the commandant and Finn. Finn carried a small tote bag.
The van sat in front and Clarkson joined them as they got in. The ride to the airport seemed short. Silence filled the automobile. The driver was Balinese, so no one spoke, just in case.
Once in the terminal, Nathan Clarkson said, “Keep quiet just a bit longer, Miss Holt. You’ll be home soon.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Thought I wasn’t going home.”
“Touché.” He saluted her. “But it is home soil at least.”
“There is that.” She smiled briefly. “Thanks for all you did. Not sure what you did to get me this far, but thanks.”
“I think you owe more thanks to Agent Smith there.” He inclined his head toward Finn. “And to the State Department, of course.”
Finn said, “Let’s go, Miss Holt. We have to go through security and get on that plane. Now.”
The cop was back, and she knew she better mind. She looked at Clarkson. “I’d hug you but—” She looked down at herself in chains and smiled a wry smile.
Clarkson inclined his head. “I understand. Next time.”
She snorted. “Won’t be a next time. I’m never coming back here.”
Finn said, “Good plan. And if you don’t hurry, you may never leave here.”
“I can’t very well hurry with my feet chained together, officer.”
Finn grabbed her by the upper arm and walked-dragged her to the security area. He handed the officer on duty the paperwork to allow them through. His paperwork indicated he had a firearm and hers that she was being extradited in chains. Neither one of them had to go through the magnetometer.
Quincy almost laughed at the thought of how the machine would have gone off if they’d gone through. Almost, but couldn’t quite muster it.
The guard on duty perused the paperwork for a long time. He finally looked up at Finn. “Bit unusual, huh?”
Quincy’s gut clenched. Oh God, they aren’t gonna let me leave. Her knees buckled, and she would’ve fallen if Finn hadn’t pulled her up by the bicep.
“How so?” Finn asked the man.
“Usually on extraditions, there are two officers to each prisoner. You’re alone. That’s odd, huh?”
Finn laughed. He winked at the man. Quincy couldn’t believe it. Her right to go home was on the line, and he winked and laughed like it was a joke?
Finn finally said, “Budget cuts. You know. They’re everywhere.”
The guard laughed, too. “Go on.” He waved his hand at the hallway. “Go on through. I guess you can handle that little bit of a prisoner yourself anyway.”
After he gathered all the paperwork together, Finn replied, “The little ones are the meanest.”
Quincy glared at him as he walked her away from the guard.
The guard said, “Gonna be a long trip for you, judging by that look she gave you.”
Over his shoulder, Finn said, “Don’t I know it.”
They shuffled down to the gate and sat for a few minutes before the boarding call. Finn had brought some nutrition bars, and she ate three of them. She inhaled them, really.
The officer and his prisoner were the first ones on the plane, even ahead of first class. He had to get the prisoner to the back row and settled before the other passengers boarded.
As they made their way on board, Quincy hissed, “Meanest? That was unnecessary.”
class=WordSection4> He stopped beside the seat to let her climb in. She slid over to the window seat while Finn stowed the little bag in the overhead compartment. As soon as he slammed the door, he took the seat on the aisle and tossed his jacket on the middle seat. He leaned over and whispered, “Yes. It was necessary. I’m walking a fine line here. I have to act like I’m transporting a person I believe has committed a felony. I have to act like a cop. Do you want me to be too nice to you and blow it? Do you even realize you could be here for the rest of your natural life if they convicted you of what you’ve been charged with?”
She heard the rage in his voice and stared at him in fear. He was so mad, it scared the hell out of her. She did what any normal female would have done after being in a foreign jail in solitary confinement for days. Did what a woman that didn’t know what the future held for her did. She burst into tears.
* * * *
Finn squeezed Quincy’s thigh and whispered, “Shut up. I don’t care how upset you are, you have to shut up. This plane won’t take off if you’re hysterical. They’ll put you off here. In a second. Cool it.”
She looked at him and stuttered, “You-you-you’re so mean. You getting your kicks here being so hateful?” She hiccupped.
He looked at her for a second. She was hysterical. She looked like she was letting go of her composure for the long run. Decision time. To get her under control, he slapped her face. Hard.
Stunned, she sat back and stared at him. She was blissfully silent. Finally, she shook her cuffed hands at him. “You could take these off, you know.
“I can’t take them off until we get in the air. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll do it as soon as I can.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart. I’m not your sweetheart.” She growled the words. “And you don’t have to look like you’re enjoying me in these.” She shook the cuffs again.
“I don’t take any joy in this at all, Q. You should know me better than that.”
“You seem to be finding great joy in it. Seems like it to me anyway.” She was still in a huff, but at least she was under control. “And no, I don’t know you at all. I thought I did once. Then you walked away from me. From us. And I knew I didn’t have a clue who you really are.”
He sat back and hooked his seat belt as the plane started to fill up. “Perhaps you should take a nap. Make the flight go faster.”
“Maybe I want it to go slow. I have no idea what awaits me in LA.”
He patted her leg. “It’s gonna be fine. I’ll fill you in once we’re airborne.”
“Will you tell me what was on Percy’s plane?”
He nodded. “Yes. I will. I think it’s only fair that you know.”
“Fair, yeah. Now that’s a word for you.” She snorted.
He unhooked his seat belt and stood up. “Let me get you a blanket and pillow.” He walked down the aisle to the closest cabin steward to make the request. I hope to God Q will sleep some. She looks so pitiful. I can’t stand those eyes boring into me all the way to the US. I can’t afford that distraction.
He got the blanket and pillow and returned to his seat. He handed the pillow to Quincy and covered her with the blanket. The plane began to taxi down the runway.
Finn grabbed an in-flight magazine from the pocket on the seat back to glance through as they took off. Keep your mind off the woman next to you. Keep focused on the job, not the scent of the woman. That harsh soap she’d used at the jail didn’t cover the smell of her that he remembered. Her natural scent of surf and salt water teased his nose. How she kept that smell always mystified him. I guess if you live in the ocean all the time, you take on its smell.
Once they were in the air, Finn dared to look over at