Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security

by Carol Ericson

  Prescott chuckled and shook his head. “They’re not after you. They’re after Amy.”

  * * *

  WHEN RILEY FLASHED HIS LIGHTS as Amy had careened onto the off ramp, she had to blink back tears to focus on the road. She knew Riley would’ve stayed with her if she’d begged, but she had too much pride for that. Her desire for his company had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with her attraction to him.

  But he seemed determined to keep his distance. It was almost as if he considered himself toxic, but he was torn between that and his protective instincts, which ran strong and deep.

  She probably could’ve played on that aspect of Riley’s character, but that was stooping pretty low. She didn’t play games with men. Maybe that’s why she didn’t have one in her life.

  Her stomach growled and she rubbed it. She should’ve suggested dinner. He would’ve gone for that, figuring they could at least eat together without putting her life in danger.

  Before making the turn to Sarah’s house, Amy pulled into the parking lot of a shopping center with a bookstore, a coffee place, a bank and several restaurants. She stopped in at the bookstore first. Had to have something to read at dinner so she wouldn’t look like a total loser eating by herself.

  She tucked the glossy magazines under her arm as she pulled open the door to a small Japanese restaurant. She turned down the saki in favor of a large iced tea and ordered some sushi and tempura. As if she didn’t get enough fish.

  When she finished her meal, she left one of the magazines on the table for the next loner to enjoy and stepped into the breezy evening.

  Several turns and several miles later, she pulled into the long drive of Sarah’s house and threw her car into park. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and sighed.

  The events of the day had drained her emotionally. She hadn’t visited her father in a few years. He had nothing she wanted anymore. Still didn’t.

  She slipped into the house, flicked on the light and locked the door behind her. She kicked off her flats and padded across the cool tile of the kitchen floor. She needed more caffeine to stay awake and figure out the rest of her life. Grabbing a soda from the fridge, she cocked her head at a tinkling sound from upstairs.

  She snapped the lid of her can and trudged up the curved staircase, straightening a picture on the wall on her way up. She paused on the landing while slurping a sip of soda. The tinkle of the wind chimes floated through the door of the master bedroom. She poked her head around the corner, frowning at the curtains billowing into the room. A gust of wind sent the wind chimes into overdrive.

  Sarah had mentioned her maid would be coming in today. Had she opened the window? The wind was kicking up from the ocean now strong enough to blow over those pretty little glass figures littering Sarah’s dresser. Amy put her soda can on top of the dresser, and then paused to admire the view before sliding the window closed and clicking it into place.

  She brushed some sand from the windowsill into her palm and dusted off her hands into the toilet in the master bathroom. A rustling noise from outside the bedroom caused her to freeze. A tingle raced up her spine.

  The Lynches had boarded their dog before they left for vacation, but the girls had a hamster. It was probably Chester the hamster making all that racket. Please be Chester the hamster.

  Amy tiptoed back into the master bedroom and peeked around the corner into the hallway, holding her breath. The rustling stopped. She’d better check on Chester in the kids’ playroom.

  She glanced into the guest bedroom and stumbled to a stop. Her suitcase, which she hadn’t unpacked yet, gaped open on the bed. Its contents spilled over the sides and lay scattered across the floor.

  Amy gripped the doorjamb for support, her gaze darting around the room. Someone had tossed the room—no other word for it.

  The open window.

  Her heart slammed against her rib cage and a cold chill ran through her body. Clenching her chattering teeth, she twisted to see over her shoulder. A shadow passed across the playroom door.

  She had to get out of the house. Now.

  Chapter Nine

  Amy spun around and dashed for the stairs. As she reached the top step, she heard a footfall behind her. Clutching the banister, she took the steps two at a time, her feet barely skimming the tile.

  When she reached the bottom and took the corner, her shoulder glanced off the wall. She gasped in pain. She scrambled for the front door, bracing her back for an attack and sucking in air to let loose with a scream when it happened.

  She may not be ready with a weapon if someone grabbed her from behind, but she’d be ready with a scream loud enough to pierce his eardrums.

  She shoved open the door and stumbled down the steps. She had no purse, no keys, no phone. The long driveway stretched in front of her, and she sprinted toward the street.

  Tires squealed and a car flew up the drive. Amy dived to the side, landing in a clump of bushes. She screamed and thrashed until she tore herself away from the clinging twigs of the shrubbery.

  “Amy!”

  That voice. The small blue compact car. Help. Safety. Riley.

  Sobbing, she stumbled toward him. He reached for her, and she threw herself against his chest. He held her. He soothed her. He didn’t seem at all surprised.

  “What happened, Amy?”

  With her head still buried in his shoulder, she pointed toward the house. “There’s someone in the house.”

  His frame hardened and coiled beneath her. “Right now?”

  “I don’t know. I think so. Someone searched my bag. I heard footsteps and took off.”

  With one arm curled around her waist, Riley ducked into his car and withdrew a gun. He started for the house, clinching her to his side. “I’m not leaving you. Not this time.”

  In her haste to flee the house, she’d left the door wide open. Brandishing his weapon, Riley crept into the foyer. “Did you actually see anyone?”

  “N-no.” Her gaze darted around the family room. “I saw an open window and my disheveled suitcase. Then I heard some noises and saw a shadow, which sent me flying down the staircase. I thought someone was coming after me.”

  Riley marched across the family room toward the dining room. He leveled a finger at the sliding door, open to the back patio and the beach beyond. “Did you leave that open?”

  “No. He must’ve slipped out the back while I was running helter-skelter out the front.”

  “Or he was coming after you until he heard my car in the drive.”

  Amy folded her arms across her belly as a chill snaked up her spine. “Why?”

  “We’ll get to that.” He smoothed his hands down her back. “Let’s secure this door first and check upstairs.”

  She followed Riley up the staircase, and they visited each room, searching the closets and under the beds. Chester the hamster was spinning on his wheel, his little feet responding to all the excitement.

  They ended up in Amy’s room, her rifled suitcase a stark testament to the danger that stalked her.

  She sank onto the bed, slouching forward. “What do they want from me, Riley?”

  “They want their money.”

  She jerked her shoulders back. “What?”

  “The men who delivered the drugs from Afghanistan want their money. They have big plans for that cash.”

  She sprang from the bed and grabbed his forearm. “Terrorists are after me?”

  “They think you have their money. They believe that’s what Carlos was doing at your house.”

  “Stashing money from a drug deal? But where? I’m assuming they’re looking for a lot of cash. It would have to be in a bag or a suitcase.” She flipped down the lid of her own bag. “And not one filled with women’s clothing.”

  Riley shook his head and raked back his long hair from his forehead. “They think you have something. And they want it.”

  Amy paced toward the window and then spun around. “Wait a minute. How do you know all of this? Tw
o hours ago at the penitentiary you were convincing both of us that the bad guys wanted you.”

  “Your brother told me.”

  She dropped to the bed again, like a boxer taking one to the gut. “You spoke to Ethan?”

  “I met him.” He settled next to her on the bed and draped his arm across her shoulder. “After I left you, I went on a mission to find your brother.”

  “Did he confirm that he set me up with Carlos?”

  “He did.”

  Riley rubbed a circle on her back as if that could assuage the misery of your own half brother setting you up with criminals and terrorists. Amy closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. The pressure of Riley’s hand did help a little. Okay, it helped a lot.

  “Ethan told you these men from some terrorist cell—” butterflies whirred in her belly at the words “—think I have their money?”

  “That’s the word on the street.”

  “My name is on the street?” She launched from the bed and away from Riley’s comfort. Couldn’t get too accustomed to his protection. “That can’t be good.”

  “None of it’s good, Amy. I don’t want to scare you, but...” He grabbed a couple of fistfuls of bedspread and clenched his jaw.

  “Don’t stop now.” She leaned against the wall, pressing her clammy palms against the smooth surface. She’d take whatever he had to throw at her standing up, not crouched on the floor like a quivering mass of jelly.

  “Whoever searched this house didn’t follow you here. I made sure of that.”

  She swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut briefly. “And that means...?”

  “They know about you. They know your friends and your habits.”

  “But I don’t have their money. Once they figure that out, they’ll leave me alone.”

  “Don’t you?” He pushed up from the bed and strode toward her, sweeping his gun from the dresser on his way.

  Amy’s gaze shifted from the weapon in his hand to the dark blue eyes beneath disheveled hair. Was he back to that again? “You think I worked this out with Carlos?”

  “No.” He tucked the weapon in the back of his waistband. “Maybe you have the money and you just don’t know you have the money.”

  “Uh, I’m pretty sure I’d know if I had—what?—several hundred thousand dollars on my person or in the trunk of my car.”

  “If Carlos had cash on him.” Riley rubbed the dark gold stubble on his chin.

  Amy dragged her gaze away from his sexy scruff and blinked. “What do you mean? You lost me.”

  “Carlos didn’t stash a load of money at your house, but what if he left the means to get that money?”

  She snorted. “Like a treasure map?”

  Riley snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Think, Amy.”

  She ran her hands over her face and twirled her ponytail around her hand. She could think more clearly if she couldn’t smell Riley’s musky scent every time he touched her. And a lot more clearly if he didn’t touch her at all.

  Studying his blue eyes, all lit up with excitement, Amy nodded. “You mean like the number to a Swiss bank account or something?”

  He clapped his hands. “That’s the idea. He planned to steal that money. He coordinated the drug drop at the storage bin and then hightailed it to your place to claim his ticket for the money. Only the Velasquez Cartel was one step ahead of him. When the money didn’t turn up at the conclusion of the deal, they came after him.”

  Amy marched to the bed and dug through her tousled clothing. “What could it be? Where could it be? I need to somehow convince the men after me that I don’t have what they want.”

  “You must have it.” He did a double take and then raised his brows. “You don’t propose working with the terrorists to find their money, do you?”

  “Of course not.” Her cheeks heated. He still didn’t completely trust her.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Then it doesn’t matter what they think. They won’t believe you anyway.”

  “When am I ever going to feel safe again?” She gripped her upper arms, allowing a rare bout of self-pity to wash over her in a wave so strong, her knees buckled.

  Riley caught her in his arms, and she burrowed into his shoulder, ashamed of her pitiful weakness.

  He whispered against her hair. “I’ll protect you, Amy.”

  He sounded so sure and strong, she almost believed him. She straightened her spine jerking out of the embrace. “How? I can’t help these people even if I wanted to.” She held up her hands. “And I don’t want to.”

  “You’re coming with me.” He squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll figure this out together. Once that money is in the hands of the proper authorities, you’ll be safe.”

  “I won’t be safe until then?”

  His mouth tightened and storm clouds rolled across his blue eyes. “Nothing’s a sure thing.”

  She pushed away from him and began stuffing her clothes back into the suitcase. “Well, that’s a resounding endorsement of your capabilities.”

  “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  She spun around at the harshness of his tone. The pain etched across his face caused a lump to form in her throat. What happened to the easygoing surfer dude? “I—I’m sure I’ll be better off with you than on my own.”

  He stuffed his hands into his black slacks and lifted his shoulders. “Let’s lock up here and get back to my place. Maybe we should swing by your house first and do a thorough search. You didn’t spend much time there after we found Carlos’s body. You don’t know what he might have left as a parting gift.”

  “You’re sure my brother doesn’t have any idea?”

  “He didn’t seem too concerned. He got paid up-front for facilitating the deal.”

  “He wouldn’t be above turning on Carlos. Look what he did to me, and we’re related.”

  “Stuff in the bathroom?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and she nodded.

  Amy left a note for Sarah and Cliff. Then they locked up the house and headed for the driveway, deciding to take both cars.

  “What did you do with Carlos’s car?”

  “I dumped it. Not my style.” He gestured to the little blue compact. “I’ll follow you, and I’ll look out for anyone following me.”

  “Funny how you’re the secret agent and it was me they were after all along.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself too much. I’m sure they’d be happy to see me out of the way.”

  “Guess we were just born under a couple of lucky stars, huh?”

  He cocked his head. “I never considered myself very lucky...up until now.”

  He ducked into his car and slammed the door before she had a chance to ask him to clarify that. A warm thrill had coursed through her body at his words and the look in his eyes. If she had to choose anyone in the world to hide out with, it would be Riley Hammond.

  She started her car and followed him down the driveway. He hadn’t wanted her with him because he doubted his own ability to keep her safe, but why? He seemed to have supreme confidence in everything else he did.

  It took nerves of steel to march up to her brother and demand answers. He could’ve been walking right into a nest of snakes. In fact, snake was an apt word for Ethan.

  She flipped on her turn signal and watched in her rearview mirror as Riley’s car followed her onto the highway. They had to find this money. What would a bunch of terrorists want with her after that?

  What would Riley want with her after that?

  Good news—find the money. Bad news—never see Riley again.

  She let out a long breath. Just her luck to meet a hot new guy at the same time a terrorist cell was hot on her heels.

  Who was she kidding? She’d lived with that kind of luck all her life. She gripped the steering wheel. Get serious, Amy. She searched her mind for anything Carlos might have said or done regarding money or bank accounts. She drew a blank. They never talked about stuff like that. He’d been too busy impressing her wi
th his vast knowledge of art and literature, and she’d fallen for it like a ton of bricks.

  Glancing in her mirror, she hit her signal for the off-ramp. The comforting glow of Riley’s headlights shined into her back window. Her car crawled onto her dark street. She’d forgotten to leave a porch light on when she left and she had nothing on a timer.

  She just hoped the neighbor girl was taking pity on Clarence.

  She swung into her driveway and Riley pulled up to the curb. He landed on the sidewalk before she even opened her car door.

  “Nobody followed us?”

  “Would I be standing here calmly if they had?”

  She wagged her finger at him. “No need to get testy.”

  “Is it dark enough out here?”

  “I did leave in a hurry, remember? You’re the one who hustled me out of here.”

  He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I’m on edge.”

  “You and me both.”

  She stumbled over the porch step and Riley grabbed her waist from behind. His large hand rested on her hip and she gulped. The terrorists weren’t the only ones keeping her on edge.

  With a shaky hand, Amy inserted her key into the dead bolt. At least this time the dead bolt was locked. The unlocked dead bolt should’ve warned her last time. She eased open the door and flicked on the lamp nearest the entryway.

  Her gaze tracked across the small living room and she took a step back to feel Riley’s solid form behind her.

  Yeah, these people were good.

  Chapter Ten

  Riley shifted to high alert as a little gasp escaped from Amy’s lips and she fell against him. He tensed and wrapped one arm around her while reaching back for his weapon.

  He whispered into her ear. “What is it?”

  “They’re back.”

  Riley tucked her behind him and crept into the room. At least this house was a lot easier to search than the Lynches’ sprawling beach house. And he should know—this was his second go-around.

  Amy clung to the back of his shirt as he moved through each room. He kept telling himself he didn’t mind, but her growing dependence on him for protection filled him with cold dread. The circumstances of the past few days had thrust him into the role of protector, even though he’d vowed to forgo that particular pastime. Easier said than done—especially with a plucky woman in danger tripping over his feet at every turn.