Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security

by Carol Ericson

  “He was involved in the drug trade. He had bodyguards living in his house. He knew the risks.”

  “But the day before he was throwing a dinner party. It doesn’t seem as if he was in fear for his life.”

  “Then he was a fool.”

  Amy pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. “Do you think they killed him because of me?”

  “What do you mean?” Riley shifted his gaze away from her to study the newspaper on the counter.

  For a covert-ops guy, his lying skills needed work. “Come on. Don’t pretend with me. Do you think the terrorists went after Ethan to find me?”

  He folded the newspaper, running his thumb along the crease. “They probably don’t even know about the relationship between the two of you. But they probably do know about his connection to Carlos. When he couldn’t tell them anything about the money, they killed him.”

  “If Ethan had known where Carlos had hidden the money, he would’ve told them. My half brother had a keen sense of self-preservation.”

  Riley snorted. “Most criminals do.” He took two steps toward her and grabbed her hands. “Put it behind you, Amy. Get some sleep. You’ve had a shock today.”

  “That’s three dead bodies in as many days.” A half smile trembled on her lips. “That’s gotta be some kind of record.”

  He cradled her face in his large, comforting hands. “That’s too much for anyone to bear. You need to get out of this, and I’m going to help you.”

  “Before you do that, can you help me with one more thing?” She turned her head to kiss his palm, fluttering her lashes against his fingers. She wasn’t above using her feminine wiles to get her way.

  “Anything.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head.

  “Get me in to see my father tomorrow.”

  He gasped against the top of her head, a gush of warm air hitting her scalp. “Why do you want to see your father? The police will notify him of Ethan’s death.”

  “Now that I know Ethan was responsible for involving me in a crime, I want to find out what else my father knows about it. Maybe Ethan confided in him about Carlos. Maybe my father has some ideas about the money.”

  “I thought you’d given up on finding the money.” Riley gripped Amy’s shoulders and pushed her away, intently studying her upturned face.

  “You gave up on finding the money. I never agreed to that, Riley. I want to find it, turn it over to the proper authorities and get my life back.”

  “What if it doesn’t work?” His fingers pinched into her flesh through the black sweatshirt. He continued, his tone harsh, his words brutal. “What if you find their money, turn it over and they kill you as a reward for your efforts?”

  She hunched her shoulders, twisting out of his grasp. “That was supposed to make me feel better? That’s your way of protecting me?”

  “That’s my way of talking sense into you. Don’t play this game with terrorists, Amy. You’ll lose.”

  “Even with the all-powerful Navy SEAL, Riley Hammond, at my side? You said you’d protect me from anything.” Amy ground her teeth together after the childish words tumbled from her mouth. Riley had hurt her by not offering to take her back to Cabo with him, and now she wanted to hurt him in return.

  “I will, Amy.” He dragged her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her body like a protective shield. The stubble on his chin caught the strands of her hair. “God knows, I will protect you from anything and anyone. That’s why I want you out of here.”

  She sagged against him. “Do this one thing for me, Riley. It’s not a regular visiting day tomorrow, but you can get me in. Do it and I’ll leave San Diego. I’ll go anywhere you want.”

  Especially Cabo.

  He hugged her tighter. “I’ll get you in to see your father tomorrow and when he doesn’t come through for you, we’ll get you the hell out of Dodge.”

  She turned in his embrace, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against the steady, sure beating of his heart. She’d made a promise and she’d stick to it, but if her father gave her information—the game changed.

  * * *

  RILEY HADN’T SURPRISED the warden at the San Miguel Federal Penitentiary with his request to visit Eli Prescott. They’d already gotten word of Ethan’s murder. The warden figured Riley’s visit might be part of the ongoing investigation. Riley felt no inclination to correct the warden’s impression.

  He glanced at Amy in the seat next to him, humming and tapping her sandaled feet together to the beat of the music on the radio. The sight of Ethan with his throat slit had done her in last night, but she’d made a miraculous recovery. Nothing fazed this woman for long. She had the resiliency of a rubber band.

  He pitied her for it.

  She must’ve endured a lot as a kid to have built up that hardened shell. She needed his protection less than he cared to admit to himself. But she did need his contacts, and he’d been happy to accommodate her— especially since she’d agreed to leave town.

  “So what’s on the agenda?”

  “What?” She turned her large, liquid brown eyes on him and he wondered how old Eli Prescott could refuse her anything. He sure as hell couldn’t.

  “What do you plan to ask your father?”

  Her brows shot up. “The obvious. Did he know Carlos? Does he know about the money?”

  “And even if he does, why should he tell you?”

  She blinked her eyes rapidly. “To save my life.”

  He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He didn’t need to explain her father’s character to Amy. He couldn’t help her if she refused to open her eyes.

  She laughed, a hard, bitter sound. “I know what you’re thinking. Why should he care about me now? Granted, if it came down to choosing between his life and mine, his choice would be a slam dunk. But if he could help me without hurting himself, he just might sign up for that.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “I have to be.” She lifted a shoulder and her long hair slid forward. “It’s all I’ve got.”

  He made the turn onto the property of the prison and pointed to the right. “We have to park over there today since they’re holding some kind of event in the administration building and the prison is closed to visitors.”

  He pulled his car into a slot near the front and cupped Amy’s elbow as they strode toward the gate that led to the prison.

  The guard checked their IDs. “Good thing you came early. That lot’s going to fill up, and we’re not letting anyone past the gates later today.”

  “What’s going on?” Riley glanced back at a news van trundling up the drive.

  “Warden’s having a press conference.”

  Riley thanked the guard and threaded his fingers through Amy’s as they walked toward the imposing gray penitentiary. “Are you nervous?”

  “No more nervous than usual when I visit him. He always wants to talk about the good old days, and I’m always asking questions.” She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for getting me in here today.”

  He squeezed back. “No problemo, but a promise is a promise.”

  “Colorado? I may need to buy a warm jacket.”

  Since Riley had made the visit request, he had to accompany Amy into the visiting room. The warden had told him that Eli Prescott didn’t rate visits beyond the glass partition, but Amy seemed accustomed to the routine.

  She settled into the plastic chair opposite the bullet-proof glass and rested her hand on the red receiver. Riley took the seat to her right, his knees bumping hers.

  The door beyond the glass swung open, and the guard ushered in a tall, lean man with cropped gray hair. Amy got her coloring from her mother but her body type from this man, this criminal.

  Prescott dropped into the chair across from Amy and leveled a finger at Riley as he picked up the receiver. “Who’s he?”

  “He’s just a friend.”

  Just a friend? God, he wanted to be so much more.

  The blu
e eyes flickered across Riley’s face, and Riley felt scanned and categorized in that split second.

  “And they let him just waltz in here? Don’t play games with me, girl.” He coughed and covered his face with one bony hand. “You know I lost a son.”

  “Do you want to lose a daughter, too?”

  Prescott jerked up his head. “What do you mean by that?”

  “The same men who killed Ethan are after me.” She gripped the edge of the counter in front of her. “Or don’t you care about that?”

  “It’s that Carlos. If he had delivered the money to the clients as expected, Ethan would be alive and you’d be on the beach somewhere.”

  “What do you know about Carlos? What do you know about the money?” Amy had slid her hand to the glass where she splayed her fingers almost in supplication to her father.

  His hand met hers through the glass. “I don’t know anything, Amy.”

  Riley blew a slow stream of air through his teeth, unaware he’d been holding his breath.

  “Ethan mentioned his deals to me occasionally but never the details. Why would he? How could I help him from here? How can I help you?”

  Amy slumped in her seat, but kept her hand in place on the glass. “I—I don’t know. These people think I have their money, and I don’t have a clue where it is. They’re not going to stop until they find out one way or the other if I have it.”

  “Then get out.” Prescott’s gaze shifted to Riley again. “I’m sure your capable friend here can find you a way out. People disappear all the time.”

  “I don’t want to disappear. I’m always disappearing.” Amy’s voice never quavered for a second.

  Her father tapped his nails on the glass. “I see you’re still wearing your mother’s locket. When did she give that to you?”

  “Do you really want to know?” Amy’s fingers curled against the glass. “She gave it to me as she lay dying in the dirt of the compound under the hot Mexican sun. As the blood and life seeped from her body, she clasped it in her hand and told me to take it. To honor her last wish, I had to lift her heavy hair and slip the chain over her head.... I had to take it off her dead body.”

  Prescott dropped his piercing blue gaze. “I loved Loretta and she loved me. I didn’t keep her on the compound against her will, Amy, no matter how much you want to believe that.”

  Riley ached to take this brave woman into his arms and give her license to break down. But she’d never allow it, especially not in front of Eli Prescott.

  Amy sighed, the only sound of her pent-up emotion. “Then you have nothing for me? You can’t tell me anything about Carlos or the money he stole?”

  “I wish I could. I really wish I could.” His gaze brightened. “You’ve searched for keys? Numbers to bank accounts? Computer files?”

  “We’ve searched.”

  Prescott put his hand back against the glass. “Stay safe, girl. You’ve got more gumption than all my other children put together. You always did.”

  Amy uncurled her fingers and pressed the glass. Then she dropped the receiver in its cradle and turned to Riley. “Let’s go.”

  As they left the room, Riley glanced over his shoulder at the beaten man shuffling toward lockup on the other side of the glass. If Eli Prescott could’ve, he would’ve given Amy what she wanted—this time.

  Amy’s low-heeled sandals clicked on the tiled floor as they walked down the hallway toward the reception area. The guards in the front were watching the event in the administration building on closed-circuit TVs.

  “Is there a ladies’ room in the administration building?”

  “Yes.” The guard at the desk nodded. “You’ll probably have it all to yourself once this press conference gets under way.”

  Good. Amy needed a few minutes to herself.

  “Are there any vending machines over there?” Riley slid his visitor’s badge across the desk and Amy added hers.

  “To the left once you enter the double doors.”

  Riley turned to Amy as they filed out of the prison into the bright sun. He skimmed his hand down her back, which she held stiff and straight. He figured she had to, or she might collapse into a puddle.

  “Are you okay?”

  Amy brushed the hair from her face and smiled a phony smile, too cheery for their surroundings. “I’m good.”

  “Do you want something to drink for the ride back?”

  “Anything cold and wet.” She fanned her legs with her skirt. “It’s hot out here.”

  Riley pushed open the door of the stucco building, holding it for Amy. They waded through the crowd gathering before the podium at the end of the room. Riley vaguely remembered some news about a possible shutdown of the facility in the next few years. Maybe if they moved her father far, far away, Amy would have a good excuse not to visit him anymore. Nothing but disappointment and heartache lurked behind those prison bars for her.

  Amy pointed to the sign on the wall for the restrooms. “I’ll meet you out front. It’s a zoo in here.”

  Riley watched her as she turned the corner, her head held high and her silky hair rippling down her back. He spun around and collided with a reporter. The man’s press badge fell to the floor, and Riley bent down to pick it up.

  “Sorry.” He glanced at the badge from KASD Radio before holding it out to the dark-haired man in the ill-fitting suit.

  Sweat beaded the reporter’s brow as he snatched at his badge. Without a word of thanks, the man turned toward the empty podium.

  With irritation pricking the back of his neck, Riley muttered, “You’re welcome,” to the man’s back and then made a beeline for the hallway to the left of the entrance.

  He sauntered toward the bank of vending machines against the wall, jingling the change in his pocket. He clutched the coins and pulled them out, frowning as he added up the change in his palm. The red light on the soda machine indicated exact change only.

  A woman in a pantsuit, her badge swaying from her neck, jogged toward the machine. She pointed to it. “Are you getting something?”

  “I need exact change.” He bounced the coins in his hand. “Do you have change for a couple of dollar bills?”

  “I might. Hang on.” She pinched open the coin purse on her wallet and stirred the change with her index finger.

  “Sorry, I don’t.” She plucked out a few coins and fed them into the machine as her badge hung forward.

  His brows drawing together, Riley studied her badge. KASD Radio, just like the other guy. They sure had a lot of press here for a little station and a little event.

  Her soda chugged through the machine and clanged into the dispenser. “Ah-ha.” She tapped the light on the machine. “It’s your lucky day. I guess my change was enough to break the spell.”

  Riley dragged his gaze away from her badge—red, white and blue, instead of just red and white like the other reporter’s—to stare stupidly at the machine where the red light had gone out.

  “Are you okay? I think you can stuff your bills in there now.”

  Her wide eyes met his over the top of her soda can after she popped it open.

  “Yeah, thanks.” He scratched his jaw and stopped her as she turned away. “You’re a reporter with KASD Radio?”

  “Yep.” She ran her thumb along the ribbon around her neck and held out her badge.

  “I just ran into your colleague, literally. You’re sure covering the warden’s speech thoroughly. Is it that important?” He crumpled the bills in his fist, knowing the machine would never accept them now, but unable to curb the tension seizing his muscles.

  She laughed. “I think you’re mistaken. Our station doesn’t have the budget to send two reporters to a news conference, even if the President himself showed up.”

  The blood roared in Riley’s ears. “There’s only you here from KASD?”

  She nodded, taking a step back, the lines of her face creasing at the tone of his intense questioning.

  “And this is the official badge for the event—red,
white and blue?” He grabbed her badge and tapped the hard plastic. The other badge had just been in a plastic sleeve.

  She grabbed the ribbon and yanked the badge out of his hand. “What’s your problem?”

  The blood thrummed through his veins, and his sluggish senses began firing on all cylinders. He had a problem, all right. Amy was alone in the ladies’ room and a rude reporter with suspicious credentials had free reign amidst a crowded building.

  The big story here today had nothing to do with the warden. Amy was in trouble.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Amy stumbled as soon as she rounded the corner to the bathroom, and threw out her arm to steady herself against the wall.

  The conversation with her father had leeched the strength from her bones—not because he couldn’t tell her anything about the money, but because he hadn’t remembered her mother had never removed the gold locket he’d given to his wife. Hadn’t he realized Amy had taken the locket from her mother’s dead body?

  She clutched her stomach and staggered the rest of the way down the empty hallway to the bathroom. She shoved open the door and peered beneath the stalls. Good, she had the place to herself.

  Gripping the sink for support, she peered into the mirror. Despite the turmoil of her emotions, her face stared back at her, placid and serene. She’d gotten so good at hiding her feelings, no wonder Riley hadn’t invited her to Cabo. He probably had no idea how much she wanted to stay with him.

  She cranked on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. It didn’t help. Nausea swept over her, and she swung around and stumbled into one of the stalls. She slid the lock and leaned against the door, laying her hands flat against it.

  She scooped in a deep breath and shuddered as she released it. Fresh air would do her more good than the stale, artificially perfumed air of the bathroom. The sooner they hit the road, the better. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose until the nausea passed.

  The outer door to the bathroom whisked open as Amy yanked a length of toilet tissue from the roll and pressed it against her lips. The person who had opened that door gave her further incentive to buck up and fight off the sickness. She didn’t want anyone to hear her retching in the bathroom.