by Amelia Autin
She cut him off firmly. “Next time, assuming there is a next time, I’ll probably do the same thing I did today. Yes, I risked my life. But so did you. And you did it first.” He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, words unsaid.
“Well, look at that,” she said softly, smiling up at him. Letting her love and admiration show on her face. “I guess I’m one of the women in your life, too.” And when his eyebrows pulled together in a question, she prompted his memory. “You know. Your sister? Your sisters-in-law? The ones you said have taught you a lesson or two?”
At first Niall just stared at her. Then his lips tilted up at the corners, and an expression she could have sworn was respect crept into his eyes. Followed closely by approval. Then love. And her heart swelled.
Chapter 21
Once again Niall and Savannah were transported to a police station in the back of a cruiser; only this time they were both asked to give statements. “I didn’t see anything,” she explained over and over in the little interrogation room she was shown into. “I just heard the shots. And when Niall—Mr. Johnson—went back to help the wounded children, I went with him.”
She knew Niall had seen something. His curse that only she’d heard was a dead giveaway, but she wasn’t going to say anything about it to the police. If Niall wanted to volunteer that info he was free to do so, but that was his call to make. In the meantime, all she could do was repeat...endlessly...the little she knew.
* * *
Niall had debated with himself about exactly what he would say in his statement to the police as he and Savannah had been driven to the station. If he told them he’d seen the sniper, he stood a good chance of being politely “detained” as a material witness. Which would mean the riverboat would depart without him. Nothing the tour company could do about that; he couldn’t expect them to inconvenience the other five hundred passengers because of one man.
And he had no way of knowing for sure what Savannah would choose to do if he was forced to stay behind. Continue on the cruise and the rest of the tour in Wuhan and Shanghai without his protection? He didn’t think so, but the alternative was no better. Stay with him here in a city where she knew no one, didn’t speak the language and would be completely defenseless while he was being interrogated? Neither choice was acceptable. Not for him. Which meant he would tell the police the truth. Just not the whole truth.
* * *
“What went wrong?” the woman asked the man in the privacy of their stateroom once they were both back on board.
“You were there,” he snapped. “What the hell do you think went wrong? Chao and I were all set to snatch her the minute Chao’s cousin took him out, but he didn’t die, damn it. He didn’t even get hit! He should be dead, but he’s not, because he spotted Chao’s cousin with the sniper rifle. Don’t ask me how, but he did. He’s good, I told you. Too damn good to be anything other than a professional. I’m calling a halt to this right now, before we’re caught red-handed.”
“What will Spencer say?”
“I don’t give a damn.”
“But our bonus depends on—”
“No amount of money is worth it if I’m in jail. Or dead.”
“But—”
“I said no!” He made a slashing motion with his hand. “We’re done here. End of discussion. If Spencer still wants her, he’ll have to wait until she’s back stateside. For now, we just enjoy what’s left of the cruise and the tour. We fly home afterward, and so will she. Then, when he’s out of the picture...” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
* * *
It lacked only five minutes of the noon hour when Niall and Savannah were dropped off at the top of the wide, stone stairway leading down to the dock. She held his hand tightly as their feet skimmed down the steps, then they practically ran the rest of the way, boarding the riverboat just before the ramp was pulled up in preparation for departure.
The engines were already fired up, and she could feel as well as hear them on this lowest deck, where the crew lived. As soon as she and Niall turned in their shore excursion cards, one of the crew members spoke into a walkie-talkie, and the boat moved smoothly away from the dock.
They stepped into the elevator and Niall pressed the button for Deck Five. Lunch was already being served in the dining room on Deck Two, but they both knew they couldn’t carry their bloodstained jackets into the dining room with them.
Savannah let out a huge sigh of relief. “We made it,” she told Niall. “I wasn’t sure we would.”
He shook his head. “The boat wasn’t going to leave without us. The police called ahead to let the captain know we were on our way.”
Her curiosity piqued, Savannah asked, “How do you know that?” When Niall didn’t respond, she said slowly, “You overhead them. That’s how you know. You speak Mandarin, and you overheard them.”
“Let’s have this discussion in your stateroom,” was all he said.
“Okay.” But her mind was already two steps ahead, and she nodded to herself. That’s what he was shouting right before the shots were fired, when you couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was warning the children about the sniper...in Mandarin.
She took a moment to thank God no one had been seriously injured in the attack. The police had received a status report from the hospital on all four children, and when she’d asked they’d been happy to share the good news with her—all the children were going to be fine.
Could it be that Niall’s warnings in English and Mandarin had made a difference? Would more children have been injured if he hadn’t sounded the alarm in their native tongue? There was no way to know for sure, but it couldn’t have hurt and might have helped. Only...why hadn’t he mentioned it before?
* * *
“So why didn’t you tell me you speak Mandarin?” Savannah asked as soon as the door of her stateroom closed behind them.
“I don’t recall the subject ever coming up,” he temporized.
She gave him one of those long-suffering looks women had down pat. “Nice try,” she said dryly. “Try again.”
He considered what he should say. “It often pays to keep certain information to yourself in my line of work. I got into the habit of not revealing things about myself so long ago it’s become second nature.”
“Keep going.”
He frowned and shrugged. He had nothing to fear from Savannah, so admitting this to her wouldn’t be a risk. “I have...let’s just say I have an affinity for languages.” Which has certainly come in handy in my job, he thought but didn’t volunteer. “Some I speak fluently, such as Russian, Arabic and Mandarin. Some I can get by with—most of the languages spoken in the Eurozone fall into this category. And some...” He grinned, attempting to deflect her curiosity with humor. “Some I can order food in a restaurant without embarrassing myself, but that’s it.”
She smiled, but he knew it was perfunctory at best. Then her smile faded. “I understand about not revealing secrets, Niall. I really do. So if you thought you needed to keep this information from everyone, including me, I’m good with that. And I meant it when I said if it’s a choice between having you in my life and knowing your deepest, darkest secrets, I choose you. It’s just...”
An expression of frustration flitted over her face. “It’s just that I want to know you,” she confessed. “So little things I learn about you from time to time might bother me, but don’t worry. I’ll get over it, I promise.” She took a deep breath, then slid a verbal dagger between his ribs before he realized it was coming. “Just don’t ever lie to me, please. I trust you. If you can’t tell me something, just say you can’t, and that will be the end of it.”
She picked up her jacket from where she’d laid it over the back of the chair and held her hand out for his. “If I soak these in cold water while we’re at lunch,” she said when he silently co
mplied, “maybe the bloodstains will come out. I have a little bottle of stain remover with me, too, for anything that’s too stubborn.”
When she disappeared into the bathroom with the jackets, he stood there for a moment, staring at the empty place she’d occupied. Remembering all the lies he’d told her. Wishing with all his heart he could take them back...but knowing it was far too late for that.
* * *
Savannah stopped cold just before they entered the dining room, and turned to Niall. “I was going to ask you about today, but I forgot.”
He pulled her a little to one side so another couple could pass them. “What about today?”
“You saw him, didn’t you.” It wasn’t really a question. “The sniper. That’s why you cursed. That’s why you ordered everyone down.” He neither confirmed nor denied the accusation, and she understood. This was one of the questions he couldn’t answer for some reason.
“I didn’t tell the police,” she said. “I only told them I heard the bullets.”
He smiled faintly. “I figured you hadn’t. Otherwise, they’d have questioned me about it, and they didn’t.”
“So you saw him, but you didn’t recognize him. I know you, Niall,” she said when he just stared impassively. “You’d tell me if you’d recognized him. So it wasn’t Martin or Herb shooting at you. It could have been one of them since they weren’t on the bus, but it wasn’t.”
“What makes you think—”
“He was shooting at you?” She snorted delicately. “Give me a break, Niall. Any idiot could have figured it out.” Then an idea occurred to her. “There’s one good thing in all of this.”
“What’s that?”
“It couldn’t have been Anders Mortenson, or any of the men who were there with their wives. So that reduces our suspect list.”
His answering smile was gentle. “Yes, but just because they were there doesn’t mean they didn’t instigate the attack. The same goes for Herb and Martin. They could still be responsible even if it wasn’t one of them behind the rifle.”
“Oh. Right,” she said blankly. “So much for that theory.”
He kissed her as if to take away the sting, then took her arm. “Come on, I’m famished. Let’s eat first, then we can reassess where we are on the case.”
* * *
They took a quick walk on the upper deck after lunch, but Savannah was too cold with only her padded vest, so they went inside. She would have walked right past the display of pearls the way she always did, but Niall stopped her. “You haven’t used up your shipboard credit yet,” he reminded her. He gestured toward the display cases. “Use it or lose it.”
“I don’t really need anything,” she began.
“Come on, Savannah,” he urged. “Today’s the last day. We dock at Wuhan tomorrow morning, and it’ll be too late then.” He pointed to a pair of dangling pearl earrings in a shimmering blue-black hue prominently displayed in the case. “Those would look beautiful on you.”
He could see she was tempted, so he told the salesclerk, “We’d like to look at that pair, please.”
He angled the standing mirror so Savannah could see her reflection better as she held a pearl earring up to each ear. “I really shouldn’t.” But what he heard in her voice was, Convince me, so he set out to do just that.
“A souvenir of your trip,” he coaxed.
“I bought this vest in Beijing.”
“A vest? Get real.” The saleswoman moved away a little, as if she realized Niall was doing a better sales job than she could do.
“I’ve taken thousands of pictures,” Savannah protested half-heartedly.
His voice dropped a notch. “The only picture I’m thinking of right now is you wearing these pearls...and nothing else.”
Warm color tinted her cheeks. “Okay,” she conceded. “I’ll take them.”
Before the saleswoman could bring over her sales book, however, Niall told her, “We’d like the matching necklace, too, please.”
“Niall!” Savannah whispered. “The earrings alone are more than my shipboard credit.”
“Ah, but I haven’t used mine yet,” he whispered back. Then he said to the saleswoman, pointing, “No, not that one. The other one.”
The other one was three blue-black pearls suspended in tandem from a slender white gold chain, on which seed pearls in the same hue were interspersed with crystals. The effect was delicate. Ethereal. And when he held it in his hand, he knew it was perfect for Savannah. More than anything, he wanted to think of her wearing it years from now, touching the pearls and reminiscing about the man who’d given her the necklace...along with his heart.
“We’ll take it.”
“Niall!” Savannah tugged at his sleeve in protest, but he ignored it and gave the saleswoman their respective cabin numbers. When she moved off to write up the sales, he smiled down at the woman who’d so quickly captivated the heart he hadn’t known he had to lose.
“I want you to have it,” he insisted quietly. “I want you to have something to remember me by.”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she blinked rapidly, and for just a moment he thought she was going to cry right there. But then she said in a small voice, “I don’t need things to remember you by, Niall.” She placed her hand over her heart. “You’re in here, and you always will be.” She drew a trembling breath. “But if you want me to have the necklace...if you want to think of me wearing it...fine. I won’t argue with you.”
* * *
While Savannah downloaded the photos she’d taken that morning, Niall checked his email via his VPN-secure laptop. He’d sent off an encrypted message to his boss before lunch regarding the events at the school today and the conclusions he’d drawn, as well as his interrogation by the police, but he wasn’t expecting a reply yet. Since China didn’t observe daylight saving time, and since all of the country was in one time zone, noon here was midnight in DC at this time of year.
But he’d noted earlier he had several emails that might be replies to queries he’d previously submitted, including fingerprint analysis and requests for more detailed information on the Thompsons, the Williamses and the Mortensons. But Savannah had been waiting for him to go to lunch so he’d logged off, promising himself he’d deal with his inbox when he got back.
He quickly clicked through everything, tapping an impatient fingertip against the side of his laptop as email after email yielded nothing. He cursed mentally, then cursed himself for his impatience. Since when do you expect miracles overnight, Jones? his inner voice jeered. You know damn well these things take time.
Yeah, he knew that. But it had never been personal before.
He was just about to log off when another email appeared in his inbox, this one from his sister. “Burning the midnight oil, Keira?” he muttered, opening it. Then sat up straight as he scanned the first few sentences.
Sorry I’m sending you this so late, his sister wrote. But Alyssa has a bad cold so I was working from home today. She’s finally asleep and I wanted to let you know ASAP I’ve hit pay dirt with Spencer Davies.
Pay dirt?
You know the NSA is listening to Davies’s cell phone conversations, he read. And the FBI tapped his home and work phones.
“How the hell do you know that?” he asked under his breath. He knew it, but he hadn’t told his sister. Then he shook his head in amusement. Shouldn’t be surprised, he reminded himself. This wasn’t the first time the agency seemed to know everything.
You’ve probably received negative reports from the NSA and the FBI, Keira continued. That’s because Davies hasn’t said anything incriminating so far. But...
His sister wrote the way she talked, and he could almost hear her breathless excitement. Davies’s latest earnings call with Wall Street analysts hinted at something big coming, possibly in the fourth q
uarter, but no later than the first quarter next year. When you add that to what I already learned about DMFC and their obsolete missile—that news would make the stock tank, by the way—it makes you think he’s found a way to redeem himself with the DoD, and therefore retrieve his position with Wall Street.
Something big. That could only refer to Savannah, and Davies’s plot to acquire her brilliance by hook or by crook.
His fingers flew over the keyboard. Thank you very much! Then he clicked Send and logged off.
He glanced over at Savannah on the other double bed, completely focused on what she was doing. And he remembered the terror that had gripped him this morning when he’d spotted the sniper. Not for himself. For her. And his first reaction had been to get her out of the line of fire. Then, as if a filmstrip played in his mind, he saw her racing from cover to help him rescue the children who’d been shot. No one else had risked rifle fire...except her.
Savannah. So fearless for her own safety. So brave when the chips were down. So utterly and unbelievably lovable. Then he thought about Spencer Davies and his plans for Savannah—use her and kill her—and his blood turned to ice. “No,” he whispered to himself. “Not happening.”
She looked up at the sound and smiled at him. “Did you say something?”
In that instant he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t walk away when this trip was over. Somehow he’d find a way to make it work for them. Just as he’d find a way to keep her safe, he’d find a way to keep her. Period.
Chapter 22
Savannah tried to hang on tightly to the remaining days with Niall, but they slipped through her fingers like water through a sieve. First there were five days and four nights...then three...then two... And suddenly it was the night before their flight home.
No more attempts had been made to kidnap her or to dispose of Niall, but she wasn’t naive enough to think they were safe. They’d never be safe until whoever was after them was caught. Until Spencer Davies—assuming this was all his doing—was arrested, tried and convicted, and his cohorts with him.
