Brady pushed Emily to run with him the four feet to the back door of the bank, while Uriel remained before him. “You don’t get a choice.”
Ted snapped his fingers and gestured for Uriel to look behind him. Ted’s henchmen showed with their red lasers that they had a clear shot at Emily’s head as she neared the backdoor.
Ted said, “Pity. Your girlfriend is rather pretty.”
Brady stepped in the way of the bullet as Uriel said, “Leave her out of this.”
Ted stared at her and said, “She possesses a treasure around her neck that is probably worth just as much as the fabled crown jewels.”
Emily stopped running and turned toward them. “Wait. If I give you this necklace, will you leave Uriel alone?”
His heart dragged to a stop. They were so close to getting her out of here and she ignored their work, passing Brady and Henry to stand next to him.
His friends hadn’t stopped her.
But he would. He had to. He placed his hand on her arm and said, “No! Em. Don’t.”
“Yes. Of course.” She reached for the clasp at her neck.
No. He threw himself on her and blocked her head while he ran toward the back door.
Ted’s man shot at them, but Henry jumped in front to block them.
Brady held the door as Uriel raced Emily out as he said, “Go! Fast.”
Two thugs were right behind them as the limo he’d hired that morning came forward into the small alley behind the main street. Henry must have ordered him to move before they escaped. Uriel shoved her inside as she said, “Dane…”
“Don’t stop. Just go, Em.” Ted wanted what he had more than Emily or her necklace. He slipped her the box and slammed the limo door behind her the second she stepped inside. He’d find another way to escape, so long as she was free.
The driver pressed the gas, but she rolled down her window and shouted, “Just give him the necklace, Dane, and get inside. Don’t do this.”
And then Ted would chase her, and she would be in constant danger. No. He tapped the limo so the driver would keep going. “You don’t understand.”
“No!” The limo sped off.
Dane stared at the retreating taillights. The small alley had once been cobblestones under the tar, and gray stones poked from the concrete. “Emily,” he whispered, “I care about you. More than I should.”
The door behind him opened. “So, how are we escaping?” Brady asked as he came beside him. The limo turned onto the main road.
Near the bank door, Henry kept his gun focused on Ted, who remained inside. He nodded at a security officer in the bank.
Once they caught up with Emily, everything would be fine.
Uriel pointed to the main street for Brady and Henry to run with him. Two thugs spilled out next, then Ted, his gun trained on Henry, who must be out of bullets, because he wasn’t firing his weapon. Uriel slowed down and turned.
He’d not get his friends killed over this. He lifted his chin and met the chilly, blue-eyed gaze of his nemesis. “Ted. There were no Irish Crown Jewels in the safe. Your information and what the CIA told me was wrong.”
“The trip isn’t totally wasted.” Ted put his gun down.
Henry lowered his hand gun, as did Ted’s two associates--they wore black trench coats like they were gangsters in the 1920s.
Uriel had a bad feeling in the face of Ted’s confidence. “You lost.”
“Did I?” Ted saluted him and strode forward, closing the gap between them. Less than a foot away, Ted said, “The limo driver works for me, Uriel.”
Ted shoved by him, and he and his thugs ran toward a van that pulled up onto the street behind them.
Uriel’s heart dropped to his stomach as he realized that he’d just put Emily into danger. How had that happened?
Brady patted his back as Uriel visualized Emily in that monster’s hands. Brady said, “Uriel, I’m sorry.”
Uriel swallowed and stood straighter. He was stronger and faster, so he ran as fast as he could, with his hands curled into fists—he chased Ted down the alley toward the busy street and his waiting van. If he didn’t stop this, Emily could die. Henry appeared at his side, sprinting all out.
“What was in the security box?” Brady panted as he joined them. “You showed Emily but I was near the door with Henry.”
He’d slipped the box to Emily, not that his friends knew that—now wasn’t the time to explain.
Six inches away! Ted and his two men were already in the black van. The engine revved.
Uriel lunged for the back door but the driver squealed the tires as he sped away.
He leaned forward and dragged in deep breaths—not from exertion, but fear for Emily. Now what?
“Do you know?” Brady asked, taking his glasses off to wipe his forehead.
Henry flagged down a taxi for them. Uriel said, “A map.”
As they climbed inside, Uriel let his friend read the paper he still possessed, not that it explained anything.
Brady handed it back. “Interesting. It says the key is the necklace.”
Henry gave coordinates and the license plate of the limo to the driver.
Air returned to his lungs and he wasn’t numb. Saving Emily sent adrenaline through him as he told Brady, “That Emily has.”
As the taxi sped toward the limo, Brady asked, “Are we rescuing her or the necklace?”
Always Emily, not that he’d say that. Henry coaxed the driver to go faster by promising extra cash.
Soon the limo was in front of them. Uriel’s muscles tingled with anticipation. “Emily. This is all my fault.”
Brady fixed his glasses, took out his phone and started typing in the numbers he’d seen on the slip of paper—a cool fact about his friend was that Brady had a photographic memory. “I see. I’ll start searching these coordinates and get you the information we’ll need.”
Uriel already knew they’d head to his father’s bank, eventually.
The taxi driver pulled beside the limo and Uriel rolled down his window. Without realizing that she was in danger, Emily glanced beside her and noticed him with a smile.
When she saw how he waved frantically at her, she rolled down her window too. He said, “Emily!”
Then the limo driver pressed on the gas. She pulled on her door but the driver had locked it. With a fast glance in front of her and then toward him, she threw the box to him as she began to climb out the window. The limo swerved and she fell back inside, on her seat. His heart beat wildly unsure how he’d catch her—but he would if she tried again. He’d caught the box. She screamed out, “Dane. I… you.”
The wind and the speeding tires drowned out whatever she said. He opened his door and said, “What?”
“I… you,” she said again as she struggled to her feet, her head out the window. The wind screamed between them.
Squealing tires and road traffic made her voice disappear.
“I can’t hear you.” She climbed onto her seat again and managed to get a leg out as he said, “Jump.”
Perhaps this wasn’t the best plan. She clutched the necklace around her throat and her eyes widened as she asked, “Now?”
“Yes.” He held out his hands. If he could reach her, he could hold her.
Something clicked in the air as they sped toward the train station. Henry tugged him down and said, “Get back here!”
A millisecond later, black smoke burned his eyes. What sounded like an engine exploded, and metal shrieked as the limo blew up, vehicle pieces showering from the air.
He screamed, “Emily!”
He coughed when his lungs filled with smoke. The blackness made his eyes water.
Henry’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
Emily deserved way more than me. Uriel had nothing else. The world was black without her.
As the smoke dissipated, he saw fragments of the limo.
Somehow she was gone and he had no way to get her back from the dead.
Chapter Five
Emily Mira’s head pounded. She blinked and tried to figure out where she was. The click-clack sound underneath the chair and the sway quickly told her mind train though she kept her eyes closed.
As she tried to move, she realized her hands were tied.
Her skin was sensitive after the explosion inside the limo but she didn’t feel burned.
She moved her head back and forth, and the weight of gold at her throat assured her she still wore her jewels. She should have switched the jewels out after the bank, but she didn’t want to fake out the banker.
In the limo, there hadn’t been time once she understood she was in danger.
She slowly opened her eyes.
Coldness enveloped her as she looked into the blue depths of the man from the club. Her lips were dry—but not burned. “Where are we?”
“On a train.” Ted sat back in his chair, studying her as he held a cigarette to his lips. A round table was between them.
She wasn’t quite sure what she’d say to this man. If she sounded too weak or too aggressive, what happened next? What would Michael instruct? She swallowed. “Untie me.”
He ignored her request, and made a point of time passing when he adjusted his seat, picked up a glass of water, drank, put it down, smoked his cigarette, puffed it out and then finally said, “Emily Mira, now that you’re awake you can tell us everything you know about Uriel Delligatti.”
Michael would say that a man who stalls wants to show his position of power, and hide his weakness.
“Who?” Her mind whirled. She really should have asked Dane more questions about his new name and new life.
Old feelings clouded her judgment, but she’d not betray him. She held the man’s gaze.
Ted leaned closer and she could smell tobacco on his breath and clothes. “Don’t play coy.”
Goosebumps grew on her body. Emily needed to find her way out of this. She saw her pocketbook on the table near the private bar, and the other man Ted traveled with. The interior door was painted gold. “You didn’t steal my necklace from me.”
He gave a smirk and another blast of cold air raced down her spine as he said, “If the bank needs proof of original ownership, we figure your social media photos with the various time stamped dates might be enough.”
He showed her various photos of herself, wearing the necklace at different events over the past ten years. She tugged her hands, handcuffed to the chair, and wished she could call him a stalker. “You found my pictures?”
He put his phone down on the table next to his pack of cigarettes. “Yes, but I can’t figure out how a Florida girl who spent years getting her doctorate at UF, is related to the Harvard archeologist—you aren’t seen together in any of these pictures.”
Harvard? Dane worked there? Seriously? She had clearly been wrong about him—she’d always imagined some backroom of Vegas and alcohol. She let out a snort and tried to bluff her way out of this situation. “Uriel and I don’t know each other. We talked online about the Irish Crown Jewels after he read my article.”
Ted stood and trailed his hand across her necklace. “So he flew to the rescue of the woman with the jewels he’d once possessed.”
This was why she never lied. She was no good at it. She laughed at her own ridiculousness and wished she was quicker at stretching the truth. “Oh, right. The necklace.”
Ted knelt down beside her and stared into her eyes. “You’ve had the jewels for a number of years.”
Right. Lying wasn’t in her skillset so she could try for the vague truth. She shrugged, letting her handcuffs rattle as she said, “My prom date gave them to me. It was a long time ago.”
He tapped his fingernails on the armrest of her chair and then said, “Uriel had no issues with ID at the bank.” Tap, tap. “Is Uriel Delligatti related to Dane Pearce?”
Seconds away from revealing the truth, Emily winced and wished she could figure out a way to deflect Ted. She lifted her chin and said, “Who?”
“You’re a horrible liar, Ms. Mira.” The man traced her cheek with his scratchy dry thumb.
Revulsion grew in her stomach. She shook her head and his touch off her as she avoided his gaze. “You’re right. I am. And Uriel hates me. He’s always hated me.”
“I doubt that.” Ted rose and took his seat, sipping his water.
Her lips were dry and parched. She swallowed. “It’s true. I was there the day his father killed his mother. I remind him of something he doesn’t want to remember.”
“So Uriel is Dane.” Ted didn’t blink as he stared at her.
If she acted like she cooperated, maybe she could find her way off the train. She leaned closer and nodded. “Absolutely. So, if I give you this necklace, you can let me go. I’ll fly back to Florida and he can forget all about me—again.”
Without any explanation, Ted stood and snapped his fingers at the other man. “I can’t let that happen. Alexandre, see if you can get her to talk about Dane Pearce until I get back.”
She watched Ted walk out of the small private room as the train continued on its tracks, making a light purr under her own tied feet. For a second she saw the plush red carpet of the main train, but the golden door closed and his footsteps disappeared from her hearing. The click of the door reverberated inside her gut. She’d use her years of defense training to get out of here. As the other man came over, Alexandre, she smiled at him, noticing his groomed face and hook nose— her instincts whispered to be cautious, as if timid. For all she knew, talk meant threaten rape. She glanced down and asked, “Alexandre, you’re French?”
“Oui.” He sank onto the chair his boss had just vacated. “Alexandre Mazet at your service, madame.”
He thought himself a ladies man. Maybe she could find her way out of this, with Alexandre’s unwitting help. She licked her lips and coughed, lowering her lashes. “Look, Dane and I were high school and that was a long time ago. I’ve not seen the man in ten years and I don’t want to. Not when I can talk to nice men like you. Why don’t we sit peacefully and have a glass of wine while we talk? Wine always loosens me up.”
“Wine is an excellent idea.” He stood. “Though it’s better for you that we don’t share too many personal details.”
“Why?”
“My wife might be jealous,” he teased. “Or, I might have to kill you later.”
Not good. She jingled her handcuffs. “I’ll behave. The wine sounds yummy, but you’ll have to untie my hands if I’m to join you.”
He eyed her as if assessing her strength. “How do I know I can trust you?”
Weak was her best weapon. She let out a small, sad sigh. “You don’t, but can you honestly trust any woman? Besides, you’re the one with the gun and we’re in a locked cabin. Where can I go?”
He gave her a glance that made her think she was on the menu as he took out a key and uncuffed her hands and legs.
She massaged where the metal chafed her. “Just a word of warning—wine makes me very friendly.”
Alexandre pointed her toward the bar with a sly grin. “Just what the boss ordered. Why don’t you pour?”
“I’d love to.” Emily knew that his eyes were on her figure, which had been his plan. Her blue pants hugged her hips and she gave an extra shimmy as she poured two glasses of wine.
She turned and handed him a glass with a flirty smile.
Slinging the strap of her pocketbook over her shoulder, she picked up her wine and sashayed in front of him to keep him distracted as she sank to the edge of her chair, casually hanging her pocketbook behind her like they were in a restaurant and everything was completely normal.
He offered his glass for a toast.
After a clink, Emily gulped her drink.
He watched her and shook his head. “So American. You gulped that down fast.”
“I guess I’m nervous. Do you have any crackers, or cheese?”
Alexandre got up and searched the cabinet beneath the bar.
While he wasn’t looking, she reached be
hind her and slipped her phone and prescription pills for stopping men at a nightclub in her lap, hiding them beneath a napkin.
He returned. “Nothing to eat. Now, where were we?”
“You need to drink,” she laughed, getting up and going to the bar to pour another. “I needed it. It’s been a long day.” She let out a sigh, and turned to him with a wink, then faced the bar again. “I’ll drink this one slower.”
Emily typed without looking at her phone at all and hoped for the best. Dane, we’re on the train to Paris.
Now, she wasn’t 100% sure they were off to Paris, but Ted had said bank so she put it together. She tucked her phone beneath the napkin.
Alexandre asked, “So how did you get mixed up with treasure hunting with Dane Pearce?”
Right. She slowly took the cap off the prescription bottle, not wanting to make a sound. She returned to the table with a pill hidden in her palm and sat again. The table provided cover for her phone and the bottle as she leaned forward. “I hadn’t planned to be. Two days ago, I graduated from college. Ted and his men showed up when I was out with my friends—so did Dane, and his guys.”
“Congratulations.” He lifted his glass to drink.
She tapped her glass with his and sipped. “Thanks. I wish I could get home and not be here.”
Alexandre drank. “I understand. Sometimes I wish that I wasn’t on Vet San’s payroll.”
Emily scooted her chair closer to his, then ran her hand through her short bob like a model on a shoot. She tapped his hand as she looked him in the eyes. Once she was sure he was captivated, she slipped her pill in his wine. “Why are you?”
He turned his hand so they were palm to palm and let out a small sigh. “Most of the time, I’m not aiming my gun at beautiful women.”
For a hitman he wasn’t horrible looking, but she needed him to wait to look at his drink so she lowered her lashes and asked with a giggle, “You think I’m beautiful?”
She glanced at the glass. Good. It was dissolved. Emily took her hand back and picked up her wine as he said, “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in the past year that I’ve had more than five minutes alone with, where I didn’t have to just shoot her and leave her for dead.”
Heroes Duet Page 17
