Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle

by Beverly Barton

  He dialed the familiar cell number and waited.

  “Hello.” He had once loved hearing her voice. Now he hated it, as he hated her.

  “Do you want to save Mia O’Dell’s life?” he asked.

  Silence.

  He rephrased his question. “What would you do to save Mia’s life?”

  “I’d do almost anything,” Nicole said.

  “Would you exchange your life for hers?”

  Another long silence, then Nicole replied, “Are we bargaining for her life?”

  “I want you, Nicole. If you’ll come to me, I’ll release Mia. Alive.”

  “How do I know you’ll let her go?”

  “How do I know you won’t try to double-cross me?” he asked.

  “I don’t suppose my word would be good enough.”

  He laughed. No way in hell would he trust her. Not ever again.

  “I’ll tell you when and where to meet us,” Pudge said. “If I even suspect you didn’t come alone, I’ll kill Mia immediately. And I’ll kill you, too, and as many other people as possible.”

  “Give me the details. I’ll meet you. I’ll exchange my life for Mia’s.”

  Ah, sweet victory!

  Not yet. You can’t celebrate until Nicole is here on Tabora with you. Not until you slice the flesh from her bones and hear her scream in agony.

  Doug Trotter met Nic at the field office at ten thirty that night, along with other D.C. and Virginia members of the task force. She laid out Rosswalt Everhart’s proposition, explaining every detail.

  “You can’t think for one minute that I’ll allow you to go through with this.” With his features contorted in sheer aggravation, Doug got right up in Nic’s face. “There will be no exchange. Do you hear me, Special Agent Baxter?”

  “Yes, sir, but—”

  “Hell, Nic, you’re on medical leave.”

  “Please, Doug, just listen to me.”

  “No!”

  “We can make this work. Everhart wants me. He’s risking everything for the chance to have me under his control again. Since I escaped, he’s probably fantasized about recapturing me. Don’t you see? We can use this to our advantage.”

  “You’re as crazy as he is if you think—”

  “You’ll know where I am at all times. You can track me. I’ll wear a pair of those athletic shoes that contain a tracking device and you can follow me to wherever he takes me.”

  “Damn, Nic, those shoes are experimental at best. There’s no guarantee—”

  “I have to do this. It’s my chance to stop this monster, to prevent him from killing anyone else.”

  “But at what cost?”

  “I’m willing to take the risk if it means bringing Everhart down and saving God only knows how many future victims.”

  She could see that Doug was considering the proposition, that he was weighing the options. “The shoes were designed mostly to keep track of people with Alzheimer’s and other mental illnesses, right? Hell, Nic, we don’t know how long it would take to get hold of a pair—”

  “The manufacturer would overnight us a pair if the bureau put in an immediate request. Or you could make some phone calls and see if maybe somebody in D.C. can come up with a pair for us.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “You don’t have to like it. Just let me do it.”

  “Does Griffin Powell know—?”

  “No! And I do not want him told anything,” Nic said.

  “When is Everhart getting back in touch with you about the exact details?” Doug asked.

  “In the morning.”

  “If you meet him, I’m not sending you in alone. Got that?”

  “But he said—”

  “We’ll stay far enough away where he won’t suspect anything. But once he sets Mia O’Dell free and takes you, once you’re on the move, we’ll come for you immediately, before he can escape.”

  “Agreed.”

  “We’re making a bargain with the Devil. You know that, don’t you?”

  “A bargain that is going to send him straight to hell, where he belongs.”

  Luke Sentell had reported in to Griff at midnight that evening, informing him that Nic had left her house and driven into D.C. Griff had promised Nic to call off the Powell agent guarding her back. He had lied to her. No way was he going to leave her out there unprotected.

  “She went directly to the field office. Got there around ten thirty,” Luke told him. “She’s still here.”

  “Something’s up,” Griff said.

  “So, what do you want me to do?”

  “Stay put. Keep her under surveillance, but try your best to make sure she’s not aware of your presence.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Call me the minute she leaves the field office. Let me know who else leaves before she does.”

  Griff paced the floor in his study.

  Something was going on. Something that involved the bureau. And if Nic was in on it, that could mean only one thing: they had a lead on Rosswalt Everhart.

  So, why hadn’t Nic called him?

  Because whatever is going on, she doesn’t want you to know.

  And what did that tell him? It told him Nic was going to do something dangerous. Something stupid. Unless he got there in time to stop her.

  He picked up the phone and called Jonathan. “Sorry to wake you, but I want the jet fueled and ready to go immediately. I need to be in D.C. as soon as possible.”

  Griff tried calling Nic on her cell phone. He left her half a dozen messages before he boarded the Powell jet at two that Saturday morning. He had also tried contacting Doug Trotter and Josh Friedman. He’d gotten voice mail. He’d left them messages, pretty much warning them if they let Nic do anything stupid, they would have to answer to him. Actually, he had threatened both federal agents with castration and painful deaths if anything happened to Nic.

  At four AM he arrived outside the D.C. field office, met up with Luke Sentell, and was informed that there had been a great deal of coming and going, but he had not seen Nic leave the office.

  Griff phoned Trotter again, this time informing him that he was waiting outside his office. Within five minutes, Trotter returned his call.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Trotter said.

  “I want to talk to Nic.”

  “Nic’s on an assignment.”

  “What the hell do you mean she’s on an assignment? She’s still on medical leave.”

  “Look, Powell, this is an FBI matter. Go home. Stay out of this. Nic will get in touch with you when she comes back.”

  “Back from where? Is she not there with you?”

  “I told you, she’s on an assignment.”

  “I want to talk to Nic. Now.”

  “She’s not here.”

  “Then where is she?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  Griff cursed a blue streak.

  He gripped his cell phone with crushing strength, then turned to Luke. “You’re sure she hasn’t left the office?”

  “As sure as I can be.”

  “Stay here and keep an eye out for her. I’ve got some government bigwigs to wake up.”

  Griff intended to call in every favor anybody in D.C. owed him. One way or another, he was going to find out what the hell was going on.

  Chapter 32

  Nic had never been so scared in her whole life. False bravado had brought her this far, all the way from D.C. to some little seacoast town in Costa Rica. Doug had whisked her out of the field office this morning, along with several other agents, and they had boarded a private plane. Only someone with top security clearance could find out just where the agents had been sent. A few diplomatic strings had been pulled to get clearance for this operation on foreign soil. And as luck would have it, a pair of athletic shoes containing a GPS tracking device embedded in the heel had been delivered only moments before they left D.C. Cutting-edge technology had created a GPS real-time tracking and location device smal
l enough to fit inside a shoe.

  Nic tried to stay focused on the task at hand and not think about what might go wrong. But she knew only too well that if Rosswalt Everhart had his way, he would torture her to death.

  That wasn’t going to happen. Her fellow agents had her back.

  At precisely one fifteen, just as Everhart had promised, Nic’s cell phone rang.

  Her hand trembled as she flipped open the phone and said, “I’m in Sabino, at the airport.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, alone.” The other agents had remained on the plane, waiting for further instructions.

  “Take a taxi and go to the Garcia Fish Market. Wait there for my next call.”

  Before she had a chance to reply, he hung up. She ducked into the ladies’ restroom and called Doug. Once she’d told him where Everhart had instructed her to go, she caught a taxi that took her across town to the fish market. She knew that the other agents weren’t far behind, but they would keep their distance and stay far enough away to be undetected.

  She waited outside the fish market, doing her best to remain calm, as locals coming in and out of the open-air building gave her quizzical stares. A couple of the younger men even whistled at her.

  As the minutes ticked by, she began to worry that Everhart had realized she hadn’t come to Sabino alone. But how could he possibly know?

  Educated guess. He might be crazy, but he wasn’t stupid.

  He had to want her desperately to risk his life for one more chance to kill her.

  Nic’s phone rang.

  Her hands shook so much that she dropped the phone on the ground. Damn, damn, damn! She picked it up, and not bothering to brush the dirt off, she flipped it open and said, “I’m here at the fish market. Now what?”

  “What are you wearing?” he asked.

  “Uh, I’m wearing jeans, a T-shirt, athletic shoes, and a ball cap.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “No weapon.”

  “No weapon,” she said.

  “Take off the ball cap and toss it in the garbage. Do it now.”

  She threw away the cap. “That’s done.”

  “Roll your T-shirt up in the back and front and tie it in a knot at your waist.”

  “Okay.” She stuck the phone in her jeans pocket and rolled up her T-hirt.

  “That’s done. Now what?”

  “Roll your jeans up as far as they’ll go.”

  “Done,” she told him once she’d managed to turn up her jeans to midcalf. “What next?”

  “Find someone there at the fish market and give them your cell phone.”

  “What?”

  “After I tell you where to meet me, I want you to leave your phone on and give it to someone at the market.”

  “All right.”

  “Once I give you your instructions, give the phone away. I’ll take it from there. If I don’t hear a man’s voice speaking Spanish, the deal is off.”

  Nic understood that Everhart was making sure of two things: One, she couldn’t call anyone to tell them her final destination. And two, she wouldn’t have a cell phone with her when she met with him.

  “I’ll do as you say,” Nic told him.

  “Good. That way Mia will stay alive.” He paused for a moment. “Walk down the block and take a right, then walk two blocks and you’ll see a sign that says Sabino Marina. Look for a silver and red speedboat. Mia and I will be waiting on board for you.”

  Griff was less than two hours behind Trotter and his group of agents that had accompanied Nic to Costa Rica. When he had received word—through an informant privy to top secret info—Griff and Luke Sentell had been waiting at the D.C. airport, ready to leave as soon as he could tell Jonathan where to take them.

  Sabino, Costa Rica. A sleepy, little coastal town not yet overrun with tourists.

  They were an hour away from landing. With each passing minute, Griff sank deeper and deeper into hell. If he got his hands on Doug Trotter, he would strangle the SOB. What was he thinking letting Nic risk her life this way? He had to know that he couldn’t control the situation, that there were no guarantees that Everhart wouldn’t simply shoot Nic on sight.

  Nic approached the marina cautiously. There didn’t seem to be anyone around and from the best she could tell, there was only one boat near the pier. A shiny red and silver speedboat. At the far end of the wharf.

  Her pulse quickened. Her throat tightened. Her heart pounded.

  You can do this. Backup is only a few minutes away. Walk down the pier and show yourself. Let Everhart see you.

  Before she took the first step onto the pier, flashbacks of Belle Fleur bombarded her. The dank basement. The chains. The roar of his dirt bike. The cage.

  Stop! she screamed at herself. Don’t do this.

  Not only did Mia O’Dell’s life depend on Nic being brave, but also the lives of all the Hunter’s future victims.

  Squaring her shoulders and praying for courage, Nic took the first step. And then the second. I’m going to be okay. I can and I will do this.

  When she was within twenty feet of the speedboat, she saw Everhart come up on deck, a rifle in one hand and his other hand clutching the arm of a dark-haired young woman. Mia. Even from this distance Nic could see the terror on the girl’s bruised face.

  “Stop right there,” Everhart called.

  Nic stopped dead still.

  “Come on board,” he told her. “But keep your hands where I can see them.”

  “Let Mia go.”

  “I will. As you’re coming aboard, I’ll allow her to leave.”

  Just do it. Do it now, before you lose your courage.

  Her heartbeat drummed so loudly in her ears that she barely understood him when he shouted, “If I see one sign of another agent, one hint of a lawman, I’ll kill both of you.”

  Nic nodded, then started walking toward the boat, her steps picking up speed as she reached the end of the pier.

  Everhart released his hold on Mia and gave her a shove toward the edge of the boat. She looked at Nic as the two passed each other while Mia climbed out and Nic climbed in. Once Mia’s feet hit the pier, Nic cried out, “Run, Mia. Run!”

  Everhart grabbed Nic, shoved her onto the deck, and pointed his rifle at her.

  “You’re mine now. All mine.”

  The Powell jet had landed in Limon, since the runway in Sabino didn’t accommodate jets. Griff had then chartered a small plane to take them from Limon to Sabino. When he and Luke arrived in Sabino, Josh Friedman met him at the airport.

  “Where’s Trotter?” Griff asked.

  Josh swallowed hard. “Tracking Nic.”

  “Tracking her where?”

  “Not sure. She’s on a speedboat.”

  “Then the GPS system in her shoe is working?”

  Josh nodded. “So far. Hey, how’d you know—?”

  Griff growled. “How many men does Trotter have with him?”

  “Enough.”

  “Enough to do what?”

  “Rescue Nic.”

  “And why did you stay behind?”

  “Somebody higher up the food chain than Doug called him,” Josh said. “His orders were to allow you to come in behind the rescue team.”

  “Then what the hell are we doing standing around here wasting time?”

  Everhart had taken Nic with him to the cockpit, shoved her down onto the U-shaped seating area, and handcuffed her to small round table in front of the seats. He had then taken the helm and guided the speedboat out of the marina and into the sea.

  She forced herself not to glance at her shoes, but she couldn’t stop thinking about them, praying that the tracking device was working. If Doug Trotter couldn’t track her movements, he’d have no way to find her.

  Nic wasn’t sure how long they were at sea, but it hadn’t seemed long, maybe thirty minutes, before land came into view just up ahead. A small island.

  Everhart docked the boat, unlocked Nic’s cuffs, pointed
the rifle at her, and ordered her to stand up. He made her disembark first and then he followed.

  “Hold up,” he called to her. “Turn around.”

  Was this it? Was he going to shoot her here and now?

  She turned slowly and faced him. Once again she noted how completely ordinary Rosswalt Everhart looked.

  “Take off everything. All your clothes and your socks and shoes.”

  “What?”

  “Strip off everything.” He waved the rifle muzzle at her. “Do as I say and you may live to put up a fight. If not, I can shoot you. In the foot. In the arm. Kill you little by little. Right now.”

  Nausea churned inside her. She untied her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, then threw it down on the beach.

  He stood there watching her, a look of terrifying lust in his eyes.

  She bent over and reluctantly took off her shoes and socks. She stuffed the socks into the shoes and threw them as far inland as she could. Less chance of the tide reaching them and washing them out to sea.

  “Hurry up,” he told her.

  After removing her jeans, she stood there in her bra and panties. She lifted her arms over her head. “You can see I don’t have a weapon and I’m not wired.”

  “Take off the rest.”

  She closed her eyes and begged for strength. Then she unhooked her bra, tossed it aside, and slid her panties over her hips, down her legs and off.

  “You are a beautiful woman, Nicole.”

  She shivered.

  “But when I finish with you, you won’t be so beautiful.”

  He should have known she would double-cross him. How they had found him, he didn’t know. Lucky for him, he’d listened to his instincts and kept watch; otherwise he wouldn’t have seen the boats heading for Tabora.

  They had found Nicole far too soon. He hadn’t had a chance to enjoy himself with her. He’d had such delicious plans for her. He’d even sharpened all the knives in her honor. They could have had so much fun together. Him slicing off a finger here, a toe there. A nipple. A nose.

  He sighed. But it wasn’t meant to be.

  He had risked everything to bring her here, knowing all along that she would find a way to outsmart him. That’s one of the things he had so admired about Special Agent Baxter. She was a woman with brains.