Holden frowned to her crude joke not being humored. Despite his efforts to stop her, this time she easily removed his second pair of handcuffs and cuffed his left wrist to the headboard. She was getting a little too good at subduing him and cuffing him to objects. She grinned somewhat playfully but with something more sinister lurking behind her eyes. She was no longer that playful tigress, and he knew it.
“I’ll put something on T.V., so you won’t be bored for the next two hours while waiting for your friends.”
Jackie swiftly jumped off him and turned on the television loud enough that no one would hear him if he yelled. As the porn movie started, the familiar background music pulsated in time with the woman’s cries of ecstasy. Jackie carelessly tossed the remote control across the room along with his cell phone, which had been setting on the nightstand.
Holden frowned at her sadistic selection of entertainment. “Thanks for not humiliating me.”
“Anytime,” she announced cheerfully.
Jackie grabbed her duffle bag, blew him a kiss, and slipped from the room. Holden jerked on his right, cuffed wrist then glanced at Jackie’s bed beyond his bed. A pillow was propped against the wooden bedpost that was now broken in half. She had used the pillow to muffle the sounds of the splintering wood.
†
Jackie walked along the marina dock only fifteen minutes after her conversation with Agent Falcone. She made excellent time on her short walk from the nearby motel. She wore her baseball cap and sunglasses to help conceal her face while carrying her duffle bag securely over her shoulder. It was another beautiful morning and the sounds of the ocean and seagulls added to its ambience, but Jackie was in no mood to enjoy it. Her encounter with Holden had her bothered, and she wasn’t even sure why it bothered her as much as it did. She certainly didn’t expect him to see things her way. It was his job as a federal agent to believe he had all the answers and believe he was right beyond all doubt. What he didn’t realize; she was in a better position than most to take care of herself. The few resourceful people she knew were highly connected to other more resourceful people. It was an enormous network of people owing other people favors. In the dead center of that enormous network was Monroe. The man she trusted with her life.
Once she met up with Monroe, she was convinced that the governor would never be able to touch her. In her coded conversation with her resourceful friend, he had offered to send the cavalry to her rescue last night, but she quickly shut it down. Jackie knew she was capable of escaping Agent Falcone if he had turned on her. She had been secretly hoping he’d see things her way, but it was a childish fantasy to think he would. Having Monroe making some wild move from some foreign country just to fly in and attempt to save her, when she really didn’t need saving, would only result in putting him on the ‘watch’ list or worse. Her life wasn’t in danger, so she wasn’t going to allow Monroe to expose himself. Jackie noticed one or two police officers lurking around the marina, but she was easily able to slip past them. Both had obviously been on duty all night and were tired now. She walked past several docked boats before reaching slip number twenty. Jackie suddenly stopped, noted the expensive yacht, and eyed it with an approving grin. She was already impressed with Monroe’s most recent contact. As she walked up the gangway, a neatly dressed man in his early fifties, wearing a hat and sunglasses, appeared on deck not far from her. He stared at her with a look that quickly turned hostile while placing his hands firmly on his hips.
“That son-of-a-bitch!” the yacht’s captain suddenly cried out, startling her.
Jackie took a step back and stared at the man with distrust. Perhaps she’d complimented Monroe a bit too hastily. He did warn her about the captain.
The captain suddenly smiled cheerfully. “Monroe didn’t tell me I was picking up the commander’s daughter!”
He extended his hand to her while grinning. Jackie felt relief flood her body, accepted his extended hand, and allowed him to help her onboard. Once she was safely on deck, she attempted to get a better gage of the man’s concealed face.
“You knew my father?”
“Of course I knew him,” he boldly announced then grinned. “Don’t you remember me?”
The captain removed his cap and sunglasses to reveal a face Jackie hadn’t seen in years. Jackie stared at him with near horror and held back her gasp.
“Zach?” she suddenly cried out. “But I thought--I thought you were dead!”
He suddenly chuckled with amusement. “Hey, there are many levels of dead, Jackie. If I wasn’t dead--I’d be dead, you know what I mean?”
Jackie laughed overjoyed and happily hugged him. He returned the warm embrace and then pulled back just far enough to kiss her quickly on the lips. He grinned slyly and released her. She felt her cheeks immediately redden from the quick kiss. She’d forgotten how exuberant Zach could be. Monroe was a prick! He knew he was sending a familiar face, but he chose to surprise both by not telling either about the other. He wasn’t totally wrong though. Zach was unbalanced. And after being listed as dead for the last five years, there was no telling if that instability had increased. Actually, with Zach, there was no telling anything. Despite his innocent, docile appearance, Zach was a frightening creature.
“We’ll catch up after we cast off,” he announced cheerfully. “I assume you’re in a hurry.
“I’ve got about an hour before the cavalry arrives and frees one very unhappy federal agent.”
“Well it’s nice to know you’re following in your father’s footsteps--” he announced with a grin, “--pissing off all the right people.”
Chapter Twenty-one
It was a little after seven o’clock that morning, and the motel seemed peaceful for the early hour. Truman remained at the front desk within the lobby, having worked a double shift. Business had slowed considerably after the holidays and several employees had been laid off. He looked bored while playing games on the computer to pass the time. He gingerly tugged on the crotch of his pants while making a face of discomfort. He still hadn’t fully recovered from Jackie’s assault on his testicles.
“Excuse me,” a male voice announced from across the desk, startling the young man.
Truman quickly straightened and immediately appeared to regret the sudden action. He looked at the intimidating man standing on the other side of the desk from him. Dexter flashed a badge and maintained his serious look.
“I’m with the U.S. Marshals’ office,” Dexter announced then indicated the equally intimidating man, Oscar, standing just inside the lobby doorway. “This is my associate.”
Truman looked from the badge then to both men with some surprise. Dexter placed a photo of Jackie on the lobby desk before Truman.
“Have you seen this woman?” Dexter asked. “We have reason to believe she registered at this motel last night under an assumed name.”
Truman glanced at Jackie’s photo on the desk then looked back at Dexter. He smirked with arrogance. “Maybe I have. What’s it worth to you?”
“Stop jerking us around, kid,” Dexter snapped. “We know she’s here. What room is she staying in?”
“I never said she was staying here,” Truman remarked in a clumsy attempt to solicit a bribe.
Oscar locked the door and closed the vertical blinds. Truman glanced past Dexter to see what the other man was doing by the door. He was about to speak when Dexter grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face against the desk. His face struck the desk with a tremendous thump. As Truman pulled his head back, his nose bled freely and was possibly broken. Truman screamed and clutched his bleeding nose. Dexter didn’t release the back of his neck.
“Let’s try again,” Dexter growled and pounded his index finger on the photo on the desk, which now contained droplets of Truman’s blood. “Where is the girl?”
“A man claiming to be a federal agent came for her,” Truman cried out in agony and fright. “I think they went to his room. Room 210. Please, don’t hurt me!”
Dex
ter released the back of the young man’s neck and casually straightened Truman’s shirt while he cried and clutched his bleeding, broken nose.
“See,” Dexter announced with a cheap grin on his face, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”
Dexter turned and approached Oscar by the door. Oscar removed his gun with silencer from his shoulder holster and, without hesitation, shot Truman in the head from across the lobby. Truman’s head snapped back, and he collapsed to the floor behind the desk. Both men left the lobby, making certain the door was locked behind them. Dexter and Oscar walked around the building and headed up the outside stairs to the second floor facing the ocean. Dexter looked at the blood droplet on his white shirt, frowned, and dabbed it with his handkerchief.
“Is it just me, or do kids bleed easier these days?” Dexter asked his associate.
“You were standing in the splash zone,” Oscar remarked casually. “You need to take a step to the side. You weren’t always so careless.”
Dexter returned his handkerchief to his pocket and frowned his disapproval to Oscar’s comment. They checked each room number as they casually walked along the balcony. Holden’s room was just up ahead. Dexter stopped Oscar two rooms away.
“No excuses,” Dexter informed Oscar in a soft tone while glaring at him. “Once I break open the door, we shoot anything that breathes. No one comes out alive. We’ve wasted enough manpower on this girl.”
Oscar nodded. “Won’t be a problem.”
Both men reached inside their jackets for their hidden weapons when Holden’s motel room door suddenly opened, startling them. Dexter and Oscar holstered their weapons and took a step closer to the wall to avoid being seen. Holden stormed from the room with a police officer on his heels. They headed for the stairs in the opposite direction.
“I want the airport and the marina scoured for her,” Holden announced with hostility. “I want her found before she escapes again!”
“How did she manage to handcuff you to the bed?” the officer asked as he hurried after Holden. “And why were you watching porn movies?”
“Shut up,” Holden growled as they vanished down the second set of steps.
Dexter and Oscar exchanged looks then hurried for the opposite set of stairs to avoid being spotted.
“How the hell does she keep getting away?” Dexter demanded.
“Any idea where she’s going?” Oscar asked as he followed Dexter to the ground floor walkway.
“No, but hopefully our friend has some theory,” Dexter replied while removing his cell phone then looked at Oscar. “I’ll send some men to the airport to watch for her. We’ll head for the marina and look around there.”
†
Jackie stood at the helm of the yacht, skippering the expensive ship as they sailed along the slightly choppy, secluded waters. She felt relaxed and enjoyed being in control of the amazing craft. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as flying was, but she was enjoying the experience all the same. Zach leaned casually against the railing and watched her while grinning at her pleasure. After a few minutes, his look turned more serious.
“I wonder why Monroe didn’t tell me you were the one in trouble.”
She cast a glance at him and grinned. “Well, you know Monroe.”
He suddenly chuckled and hid his smile. “You mean Monroe knows me.”
“That might have something to do with it.”
“That’s so typical,” he scoffed, shook his head defiantly, and threw his hands in the air. “Shoot people with a barrage of bullets and it’s peachy keen. Blow up shit and you’re labeled the angel of death.”
She cast a sharp glare at him. “I heard you blew up a freighter.”
“Just a small one.”
“I won’t nitpick,” she announced with little interest in any details of Zach’s mission and returned to watching the ocean rush past. “I’m just happy to see a friendly face.”
He suddenly snorted a laugh and straightened by the railing without taking his eyes off her. “You’d be the only one to think I have a friendly face.”
That was far from the truth. Zach looked friendly and even acted friendly. Most people would think he was a gentle, kind man by just looking at him. As he studied her, Zach shook his head in disbelief and near disgust.
“I can’t believe it’s been nearly five years since I last saw you,” he announced. “I’m starting to think you’ve been avoiding me on purpose.”
She glanced at him and tried not to laugh. “Your being dead probably had something to do with it,” she replied while containing her grin.
“I suppose that could make get-togethers more difficult,” Zach replied.
“I went to the funeral.”
“I didn’t bother attending,” he announced with disinterest. “I’m not much for funerals.” Zach appeared curious and tilted his head. “Was it nice?”
“Yes, very.”
“Was the commander drunk?”
“Of course,” she replied while grinning.
“Well, that’s what’s important,” he announced.
She glanced at him several times with an odd look now on her face. There was something that she suddenly found troubling. He immediately noticed her concerned expression and grinned almost humored.
“You have that look,” he remarked. “Something on your mind, dear?”
She became uncomfortable, shifted at the helm, and then sheepishly glanced at him. “We buried a toe,” she replied gently and immediately grimaced at the thought. “If you didn’t die, whose toe did we bury?”
Zach grinned and chuckled in his throat. His smile mocked her. “Why do you ask questions which you don’t want to know the answers?”
She rolled her eyes and attempted to hide her smile. It was true. She forgot. Never ask Zach about the things he does. Zach finally approached her at the helm, stood behind her, and peered over her shoulder as she steered the expensive yacht through the slightly choppy waters.
“You don’t need Monroe,” he informed her while placing his hands on her shoulders. He gently massaged her shoulders from behind. “I can take you to some of the most beautiful, remote islands anywhere. I mean, let’s face it. You wouldn’t need more protection than me.”
She enjoyed the shoulder massage, knowing how tense she’d been the last few weeks. Zach was absolutely correct; she wouldn’t need more protection than him, but the thought of traveling alone with him for any length of time was at best frightening. He was wildly unpredictable, and, honestly, she didn’t trust him not to blow up that remote island.
“I appreciate the offer, but Monroe already has my disappearance planned.”
“Ah, the hell with Monroe,” he scoffed then placed his arms around her waist. He rested his head affectionately on her shoulder like an innocent child. “That prick was hitting on you when you were barely sixteen. He’d love to get you alone somewhere isolated and exotic for a few months. I, on the other hand, am a perfect gentleman.”
She slowly turned her head to look at his face only inches from hers and noted his grin. She raised her brows and gave him a curious look.
“Didn’t you back me into a corner once?”
Zach removed his head from her shoulder and took a step back from her. “That doesn’t count. I was drunk,” he replied firmly. “Besides, you were nineteen and legal.”
Jackie eyed him behind her and laughed. He gave a general nod across the ocean.
“There’s a secluded beach on the other side of the island,” he announced matter-of-fact. “I thought you might enjoy a little beach time.”
“That sounds wonderful,” she said with a soft groan at the thought. “I could use a little relaxation in the sun. I’ve been wound pretty tight lately.”
“A little skinny dippin’ will cure that.”
Jackie eyed Zach’s devious grin with a skeptical look. She’d forgotten how charming and horny Zach was. Even so, she wouldn’t trade him for the world. It was great having him resurrected from the dead. The only q
uestion remaining on her mind was whether or not he’d actually hacked off his own toe while faking his death. Or did he just happen to find a spare one lying around? She didn’t know which thought was more disturbing.
Chapter Twenty-two
The skies appeared to be darkening later that afternoon as the winds picked up slightly. Zach’s expensive yacht was seen anchored just off shore of a remote, secluded beach on the small island not far from Florida. An inflatable launch was pulled onto the beach where the pair had been soaking in the sun after a lunch of freshly caught lobster. Jackie relaxed on the beach in her shorts and tank top while holding a glass of wine. It was actually her third glass, and she was feeling pretty good. Her relaxed mood probably had something to do with allowing Zach to massage her feet. He was grinning boyishly and appeared to be in his glory. Jackie enjoyed the thorough foot massage as she stared at the dark skies rolling in, interrupting their sunny afternoon on the beach.
“Is there a storm approaching?”
“A nasty little bitch of a hurricane is skimming the coast,” he informed her without looking up from her feet. “It’s not expected to hit here. Expect some high winds later tonight.”
Jackie marveled at how much he sounded like a weatherman. Living on a boat probably sharpened his nautical knowledge, not that he was ever a slouch in that area. Most SEALs were well-adjusted to water. She found herself distracted by the dark skies and drifted into her own, private thoughts. Zach studied her a moment and appeared curious.
“You seem terribly distracted,” he informed her. “Would you feel better if I waited with you for Monroe?”
She snapped out of her daze and looked at Zach. “No, I wouldn’t want to impose more than I already have.”
“Seriously?” he demanded and appeared offended. “Does it look like I have anything else to do today? Besides, you’re family. We take care of our own.”
“You know, with everything that’s been going on and all the violence I’ve seen recently, I can’t understand why I’m so bothered by one federal agent,” she said aloud and instantly regretted it. Zach was going to jump all over that comment.
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