Silent Pursuit

by Lynette Eason

  “Close to your heart. Keep her close to your heart. Close to…”

  Her hand flew to her throat in sudden realization. She grabbed the necklace, held it in her suddenly unsteady fingers, and wondered. Could it be?

  It had to be.

  Practically tumbling from the bed, she got her feet under her and raced for the door.

  “Ian! Ian, I’ve got it!”

  EIGHT

  Ian heard her yell and bolted from the conference room. They rounded the corner at the same time, sending her crashing against his chest. His arms came up protectively and held her tight.

  Or tried to.

  She scrambled back but grabbed his forearms and said excitedly, “It’s the locket.”

  “What?”

  She grabbed the necklace around her neck and pulled it out for him to see. “The locket. The letter. The clue. Oh, come on.” She dragged him back into the room and fiddled with the clasp on the chain, trying to release it. Finally, she dropped her hands and said, “I can’t get it. Can you?”

  Gina pulled her ponytail up and off her neck and Ian swallowed hard. With hands that held a slight tremble and a sudden propensity to sweat, he told himself to get a grip. This had to do with Mario. She’d figured something out.

  “This is pretty heavy. Doesn’t it hurt your neck to wear it?”

  She gave a shaky chuckle. “No, I guess I’m used to it. Mario loved to see it on me, and I finally just quit taking it off except at night. You wouldn’t believe the compliments I get.”

  Finally the hook released and the necklace wilted into her palm. She sat at the table and with shaky hands managed to hold on to the locket while she slid a thumbnail between the edges to open it.

  A younger version of Mario stared back at them from one side, and a girl of about ten years old from the other.

  Gina traced a finger over the pictures. “This is Mario’s sister, Patrice. She died on a mission trip in South America when she was sixteen.”

  “Yeah, he told me about her. I remember he was torn up about it. She and two others were killed in some kind of cross fire between guerrillas and the Colombian military.”

  “He never got over it,” she murmured.

  Impatience crawled through him. “Okay, so how does this tie in with what was in Mario’s letter?”

  She frowned. “In the letter, he said, ‘Thank you for keeping her memory close to your heart.’ So, it got me thinking that maybe he meant this…that there was something more than just keeping her memory alive…. What if he meant…” She held the locket up to the light, squinting at the piece of gold metal. “Something…like…this…right here. Does it look like it opens again?”

  He took it from her. “Maybe. Some kind of secret compartment?”

  “Exactly. Can you get it open?”

  “Yes, hold on one second. Look, it’s a little switch.” He pressed it and the bottom opened up.

  A small key fell out and Gina gasped. “You found it.”

  He smiled at her. “No, you found it.” He studied the small item. “Now we just have to figure out what it goes to.”

  Racking her brain, Gina paced the floor of the conference room. “I don’t know, Ian. The first thing that comes to mind is a safe-deposit box.”

  He nodded as he examined the key, turning it one way, then another. No identifying marks stood out. He looked up at her. “You’re right. That’s exactly what it is. Mario would expect you to know what it was to if he hid it in the necklace.”

  “Yes, he would. Okay—” she shrugged “—it’s got to be where he banked.”

  “So, we’ll call and find out if he’s got a box there.”

  “Um, I don’t know which bank. I know he had accounts at two different ones. One in Georgia where he was stationed at the base and one in Spartanburg.”

  He looked at the clock. “It’s too late to call today—they’re closed. We’ll try first thing in the morning.”

  “Okay.” Out of habit, she touched the spot below her throat where the locket usually rested. Ian was looking at her hand. She followed his gaze, wondering if she had dirt or something on it. “What?”

  “Huh?” His eyes snapped up to hers.

  “You’ve got a funny look on your face. What?”

  He reached out and took her hand in his. Heat zipped through her arm and up into her neck. Why did he affect her so? She focused on his words. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

  Gina snatched her hand away and clasped it with her other. “No. I took it off.” She stalked back to the window.

  “Why?”

  She tossed her hands up. “What does it matter?”

  He shrugged, “I guess it doesn’t, but it just struck me as odd.”

  She stamped a foot. “Oh, if you must know, I took it off in a fit of anger. When all this started and I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Then I realized Mario had done something to lead these guys to me…” she swallowed hard. “I was mad at him. Mad at him for whatever he’d gotten himself into, mad at him for getting himself killed—and mad that he left me to deal with the fallout.” Ian looked stunned at her outburst, yet understanding flitted across his face.

  Abruptly, she spun around and said, “I’ve got to call my parents. They’ve probably already called my brother, Joseph, and reported me missing—and I can just imagine what he thought when he saw my house…. Plus, I need to warn them….” She trailed off and sucked in a deep breath. “They need to be cautious. I didn’t call them before because I didn’t want the people after me to think that they might know where I was…. But I just can’t stand the thought of them worrying about me.”

  He thought about it a minute. “You’re right to be careful. But Joseph’s FBI. He can take care of himself—and your family. You should call him and he can decide what to tell your parents, if anything. Here, use the encrypted cell.”

  She took the phone from his outstretched hand and gave him an embarrassed smile. She should have just said she’d taken the ring off and left it at that. Grateful that he let her get away with the topic change, she said, “Thanks.”

  Thirty seconds later she had her brother, Joseph, an FBI agent in her hometown of Spartanburg, South Carolina, on the phone.

  He wasn’t happy. “Gina? Where are you? What’s going on? I went to your place and it was trashed! Why didn’t you call me?”

  She held the phone a few inches from her ear. Ian’s raised eyebrow indicated that he had no trouble hearing Joseph’s explosion.

  “Breathe, Joseph. Calm down.”

  “Calm down? I get a call from Dad that no one’s seen or heard from you in days and you tell me to calm down? We’ve got a missing persons report filed with the police department, and Mom’s just about ready for a straitjacket. Don’t you tell me to calm down!”

  She winced. “I’m sorry. I should have called earlier, but I was afraid the people after me might…” She blew out a breath. “Look, I’ve…run into some trouble.”

  “And you don’t think I might have been the person you should have called? Why didn’t you call me?” His growl rumbled through her and she paused. Why hadn’t she called Joseph? She looked at Ian leaning back in the comfortable leather chair. He made no effort to hide his interest in the conversation.

  “Because Mario told me to call Ian Masterson.”

  “Ian? Ian? The dude who deserted his unit? The one Mario was so furious with? And how—and when—did Mario tell you to call Ian?”

  Gina blew out a sigh. It did sound bad when he put it that way. “It’s a long story, but yeah—that one. And he told me…”

  “Look, never mind. Where are you?” he interrupted.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  Gina braced herself for another eruption; then Ian took the phone from her hand.

  “This is Ian. I’ll be taking care of the situation.”

  She watched, stupefied, as Ian smoothly handled her brother and his worried insistence that he come to help. In the end Ian won, reassuring Jose
ph that he had everything under control and saying he would call if he thought Joseph could help.

  Gina cleared her throat when Ian hung up the phone with a bemused smile on his face. She shrugged. “He loves me.”

  “Trust me, I know the feeling.”

  She blinked. “Huh?”

  He flushed as he realized what he’d implied. “I have a sister, too, remember?”

  Her face flamed. “Oh, right. Carly. Yes. Well. Um…”

  Ian grinned at her and she threw her hands up.

  And the laughter rolled out of both of them.

  When they caught their breath, Gina looked up at him. “It really wasn’t that funny.”

  “Maybe not, but I needed the laugh.”

  She sobered. “Yeah, better take it while you can.”

  Who knew when the next opportunity for a good belly laugh would present itself, given their current circumstances?

  “Gina.” The whisper and a rough shake of her shoulder jerked her out of a sound sleep. Terror shot waves of panic through her as a scream clawed to the top of her throat. A hand covered her mouth and blackness greeted her eyes. For a minuscule second she flashed back to the moment she’d stepped into her house and the blindfold had been slapped on her face. Now she struggled and tried to scream but nothing escaped the rough palm clamped over her lips, rough fingers digging into her cheek.

  She couldn’t breathe!

  Her heart fluttered like a butterfly held by one wing. Gathering her wits, she struggled against the grip, then whimpered as a large head descended toward her.

  “Shh.” The whispered warning rolled from her like water from a duck. Fear overwhelming her, she continued her useless attempts to escape her captor.

  He said again, “Gina, shh. Be quiet.”

  His voice penetrated her fog of horror. Then she smelled his familiar scent. Peppermint.

  Ian.

  She ceased all movement and went limp against his hand. He moved it and said in a voice so soft she almost didn’t catch it, “Follow me.”

  “What’s wrong?” Instinct made her whisper. Then she punched his arm—hard enough to make her wince at the pain that shot up from her knuckles. “Did you have to scare me to death?”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t take a chance on you screaming when I woke you up. Someone’s breached security. Nicholas’s taking care of things on his end, but I’ve got to get you out of here. Now, no more questions until we’re safe, okay?”

  The fear she’d felt only moments before returned in triplicate. “Right.” A quick glance at the bedside clock told her it was 3:00 in the morning.

  She slipped from beneath the covers, thankful she’d dressed in sweats. “I need shoes.”

  A sound outside the door had him hurrying her even faster. “No time.”

  So, once again, she would be making a run for it barefoot. “Why don’t I hear an alarm going off?”

  “It’s a silent alarm. Now, hush.”

  She hushed and held tight to his warm hand, following closely on his heels. She had no idea how they would get out of the house without running into whoever had tripped the alarm, but she’d just have to trust Ian to keep her safe.

  He led her away from the door where they’d heard noise and out of the second door that led into the hall, gun gripped in his right hand, funny-looking glasses now covering his eyes.

  Night vision goggles. Of course.

  Another right turn. A left.

  Then he abruptly turned and pulled her into the room to the right.

  Her breath came in pants; her heart thundered in her ears so loudly she was sure Ian could hear it. And where was Nicholas? Was he in danger? Were the cops on the way?

  As if in answer to her question, sirens sounded in the distance.

  Ian easily made out the figure at the end of the hall just before he pulled Gina into the room behind him. A pro. Dressed in army fatigues—and an M16 assault rifle held comfortably in his hands.

  One of his own? Another Ranger? Dread crawled through him. These guys were serious. Mario, what have you done?

  Gina shifted behind him and he could hear her desperately trying to quiet her breathing. Fortunately, the bad guy was far enough away that he couldn’t hear her.

  Okay—Ian thought quickly, new plan.

  He looked around. The balcony. Motioning for Gina to stay put, he scurried over to look out. A tree stood close enough, and if he were by himself, he’d be over the rail and down the tree in minutes. However…

  He looked over at the scared woman, trembling where he’d left her—yet with a look in her eyes that said she’d go down fighting.

  Good. She’d need that spirit. He moved back to the door and listened. Footsteps sounded to his left. Soon they’d be here to search this room.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the balcony. In shock, she noticed it was raining. Sometime during the night, the clouds had released their burden. Leaning next to her ear, he whispered, “How are you at climbing?”

  Fear shot through her eyes, but she shrugged it off. “Guess we’re going to find out.”

  He looked at the limb, then the ground below. “Hold on.”

  Racing back into the room, he shifted the pack on his back and snatched a sheet from the bed. He pulled a knife from his belt, making a cut in the middle of the sheet, then ripped it into a long thick strip. With swift, sure movements, he tied one end around his waist.

  Back on the balcony with Gina, he tied the other end around her. “Okay, I’m going to go first. Once I’m in the tree, I can help you over and down, got it?”

  She nodded, never taking her midnight eyes from his. Trust shone in their depths. Trepidation filled him. Oh, God, don’t let me let her down.

  Then he was over the railing and reaching for the tree limb, blinking against the blinding downpour. Once he had a secure hold on it, he swung himself over and onto it. Gina already had one leg over the side of the balcony, her eyes on something back in the room.

  Were they already in there?

  She scrambled over to the edge, her fingers reaching—and not quite long enough to grasp the limb.

  “You’ll have to jump, Gina.”

  She gasped and turned to look behind her. Whirling back, one hand still on the rail, she took a deep breath and leaped toward the limb. Her fingers curled around the branch, her weight pulling on Ian.

  A loud crack echoed through the night and Ian flinched, thinking they’d been spotted and shot at.

  Then he felt the limb shift and dip.

  Gina eyes went wide, then blinked repeatedly as the rain poured onto her face. Sputtering, she swallowed hard, still dangling from the tree like a child getting ready to work the monkey bars.

  “Don’t move,” Ian whispered. He glanced at the doors on the balcony and could see shadowy figures casing the room. Soon, they’d be out on the balcony.

  And he and Gina would be trapped.

  NINE

  Gina gripped the branch and felt every muscle in her shoulders start to scream in protest. As quickly as the rain seemed to have started, it lightened to a drizzle. The limb fell slack against her palm. The cold seeped in. “Ian, I’m going to fall,” she whispered.

  “No, you’re not. I won’t let you. You’re tied to me, remember?”

  She gave a watery, humorless puff of a chuckle that came out sounding like more of a grunt. The terror shuddered inside her in spite of Ian’s reassuring presence and highly trained skills. “That simply means if I fall, you do, too.”

  “Just,” he grunted, “give me one more second.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting you off that limb. Okay, I’m wedged in here, now start coming my way, inch by inch. Now that I’m off the limb, maybe it’ll hold for you.”

  “Maybe?” she squeaked.

  “Move, Gina, we don’t have much time.”

  She moved. Slowly, ever so slowly, she worked her way over to the sound of his voice. The limb gave another groaning creak and sh
e froze.

  Ian’s whisper reached her. “Don’t stop now—you’re almost here.”

  She kept going—until she lost her grip. One hand slipped off and she dangled like a monkey, cramped fingers holding on for dear life, the other arm windmilling, trying to grab back onto the limb. A whimper escaped her.

  Then a hard hand clasped her flailing wrist and Ian hauled her the rest of the way over and up against his chest’s rapidly beating heart.

  She stood there, shivering, arms clasping the man who was determined to keep her safe and scare her to death all in one night.

  “Ready?”

  They still had to get down the tree to the ground—then somehow get to the car.

  Suddenly, the cold air hit her and she couldn’t stop shaking. How would she make it down the tree? It seemed as if an hour had passed since they’d started this run for their lives, yet in reality she knew it had been only minutes.

  “Okay. I’m ready,” she gasped.

  “Follow me.”

  He started the trek down the tree, one foot gently placed, the other following. Slowly, they worked their way down. Just as they touched the ground, the balcony door opened above them and a uniformed body leaned over the railing. He paused, spotted them, then mimicked Ian’s initial move.

  He jumped for the tree.

  When he hit the limb, it gave another booming snap—and man and limb fell two stories to crash at the base of the tree.

  Ian grasped her hand and pulled her after him, her bare feet tickled by the rain-drenched yard and nearly frozen stiff as the cold wind blew across her. She looked back to see the man lying there, not moving. Was he dead?

  There was no time to find out.

  Ian led her to the edge of the moat and without hesitation, hit the water, yanking her after him.

  The cold wetness came to her waist and nearly sucked the air from her lungs. Her knees buckled but she pressed on and within seconds was out on the other side, dripping water and shivering like someone struck with a seizure. “Wh-wh-what now?” she stuttered.

  Ian pulled a set of keys out of his sopping pants. “Get in.”

  He’d moved the car. To the other side of the moat.