Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series)

by Loy, Tracie Ingersoll

  “You’re quiet.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Yeah, I’m just trying to come up with some sort of plan of action.”

  When he reached Blue Heron Lane, he turned off the truck lights and left them off until he’d driven well into the Ryan’s drive. Jack backed the truck in on the bankside of the shed, completely blocked from view. He shut off the truck.

  “If we’re onto them, are they onto us?” They sat in silence and stared out the window into the dark night. “Or are they so arrogant and egotistical they think they won’t get caught?”

  Even though he wouldn’t say it, Cassie heard his frustration, almost bordering on anger.

  “Stay here until I get back.” Jack unbuckled his seat belt. “I have an idea.”

  She unbuckled hers to join him.

  “Please, just wait here.” He turned off the dome light and opened his door. “Lock up.”

  Before Cassie could protest, Jack slipped into the night.

  No matter how hard she tried to relax, she gave up and moved the seat close to the dashboard. With her head propped in her hands, she leaned in, watched, and waited. In reality, she knew it hadn’t been that long, but it seemed like forever. A few stars peeked through the cloud cover, and the thinnest silver crescent moon shined. The what-ifs invaded her thoughts. The worst one was what if he didn’t return. Damn it, did she even have the house keys, or did he have both sets? Cassie searched through her purse looking for the keys. She was ready to dump it out on the driver’s seat when Jack tapped the window. She yelped and practically jumped out of her seat. Unlocking the truck, he climbed in.

  “Honey, what are you doing?” he asked her.

  She sighed. “I’m looking for my keys.”

  “Why?”

  “I started worrying, what if you didn’t come back.”

  “Cass, I will always be back. Trust me.”

  “I do.” But she wanted to add that accidents happened.

  “Here’s the plan.” Jack reached into his pocket, pulled out the house keys, and handed them to her. “We’re heading into the house without turning on lights. Follow me. Once inside, I’ll go over everything.”

  He grabbed a bag out of the back of the truck and led the way. Once inside the kitchen door, Cassie grabbed the flashlight off the hook and handed it to him. He kept the beam below knee level.

  “Are people watching us?” she asked, becoming concerned.

  “Half the problem is I’m not sure. If someone is over at Armstrong’s house watching, I don’t want it obvious.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “It’s like this…” he hesitated and then cleared his throat. “Well…”

  “Oh, for God’s sakes, what’s the damn plan? Other than being Commando Cassie, what?”

  “I scouted out a spot for our sleeping bags down on the beach. It’s well hidden, far enough away. If anyone shows up during the night, I’ll be able to hear them.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him, blinking several times, not sure she heard correctly. Had he thought she was serious with commando anything?

  “It’s not raining. You’ll be warm and safe. The sand is soft.” He kept nodding his head.

  Quickly, she went through the scenario if she didn’t go out on the beach and stayed inside. Jack had always kept her safe. Trust was her new motto.

  “Sure. What do I need to do?”

  He laid the flashlight down on the floor and pulled out neoprene booties and a black spandex hood from the bag and handed them to her. “Wear these and what you have on. I’ll get the sleeping bags and change my clothes.”

  When Jack returned, he’d rolled up the bags for easy carry and had changed into a neoprene wetsuit, complete with his head covered. Her eyes nearly popped out watching him strap a knife around his ankle. He then smeared black grease paint all over his face. If he noticed her reaction, he didn’t let on.

  “Find us two big plastic garbage bags and put the sleeping bags in them. You’ll be in charge of the phone and the house keys.” He checked to make sure everything was on mute and handed it to her. He tucked a pair of night vision binoculars and two phones under his belt.

  She found bags under the sink and stuffed the sleeping bags in each one. He grabbed his, and she hers, and they were ready to head out the door.

  Once outside, Jack guided her along the edge of the property. Reaching a large boulder, he had her wait. Jack sprinted with the bags to a grouping of driftwood logs half way to the rented house. In a few minutes, he returned for her. Now she understood what he meant by well hidden. Crammed between the two logs and under one, Jack had dug out an area in the sand. Her bag lay flat on the ground; his leaned up against the log. With a clear view looking down the beach, Jack adjusted his bag, leaving it unzipped but laying loosely around him. Her attempt to brush out sand was futile, so Cassie climbed into her bag. Scooting her butt left and right, she finally made a comfortable indentation. Her head lay on the plastic garbage bag next to Jack’s hips.

  “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she mumbled.

  “Doing what?”

  “Sleeping on the beach with a guy who has a knife strapped to his ankle with grease smeared all over his face, that’s what. My mother always said some things are worth waiting for, but I don’t think this is what she meant.”

  “Princess, this is exactly what your mother meant.” His kiss was light and tender, catching her by surprise. He kissed her again, but lingered. “It’s late. Try and go to sleep.”

  She closed her eyes, not wanting to decipher what he meant.

  He awoke with a start. The low sounds of an engine bounced off the water and then stopped. The scraping of something across sand echoed into the night. Jack peered through the binoculars at a MK3 Grand Raid Zodiac being beached. He swore under his breath. Three men dressed not much differently than he, stood at the edge of the water. He shifted around to get a better look, disturbing Cassie. Covering her mouth, he gently shook her.

  “Shhh.”

  Now fully awake, she whispered, “What is it?”

  Jack pointed to the boat, and then Armstrong’s. He handed her the binoculars while he stripped off the sleeping bag. She looked through the opening of the driftwood logs and sucked in her breath. Yeah, that was kind of how he felt. He knew that inflatable very well. It held eight passengers—a payload in the world of sex-trafficking and human smuggling.

  Whoever had been waiting opened the sliding glass door, and the three men disappeared inside. Jack double checked his knife and secured the satellite phones under the neoprene hood.

  “No matter what you see, stay silent and calm.”

  She nodded, and he squeezed her hand.

  Jack exited into the darkness of the water. His goal was to plant the GPS satellite phones in that Zodiac. Hopefully, their signal would lead them to the source.

  With little time to spare, he crawled up behind the Zodiac and slipped over inside. He secured one phone in the bow just under the fold of the point and the other in the stern. All he needed was one working signal. He slipped into the water from the stern. Submerged to eye level, he watched and waited. He wondered if Ray somehow had upset their operation.

  The door slid open; angry voices pierced the air. The men stood on the deck, and the door slammed shut. Jack moved further out into the water. One man climbed in the Zodiac, and the other two pushed it off and turned it around, climbing in. They started up the engine and blasted across the waves.

  Jack stayed submerged until he reached the hillside bordering the Ryan’s property and came back around in the shallow water. He left the water and sprinted to the driftwood logs. Cassie still peered through the binoculars, looking for him down the beach.

  “Psst.” She jerked around and gasped. He gave her a lot of cre
dit for staying silent.

  “My phone.” He called Kip and gave him the information. Jack stayed on the line until Kip gave him the affirmative of a tracking signal.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  He rolled up his sleeping bag and shoved it in the plastic bag. Cassie did the same. He surveyed the area with the binoculars before they left their hideout. Once back on the property, he positioned Cassie behind the big boulder. He returned to the hideout, where he erased all signs that they had been there. Together, they hugged the hillside and came around by the shed. Not until they were inside did Jack let his guard down.

  Just inside the kitchen door, Cassie dropped the stuffed plastic bags and declared, “I have to pee, and these things stink.” She ran down the hallway.

  He stripped down to his waist, and the chill in the house was evident. Jack threw a couple of logs on and within seconds, the embers lit the wood and heat poured out. He now heard the shower, but Jack was too tired to even think of joining her. Instead, he headed back to the kitchen sink where he scrubbed his face with liquid Dawn. By the time she’d finished, Jack had stripped off the rest of the wetsuit and pulled on a sweatshirt and sweats. He’d poured a hefty serving of Irish whiskey and had a port waiting for her.

  Cassie joined him in front of the fire. The pitiful look on her face almost made him laugh. She took a big sip and sighed. “I make a lousy Commando. I got so scared, I thought I was going to pee my pants.”

  “But you didn’t.” Somehow, he had to ignite the confidence he knew she possessed. “If you hadn’t been scared, I would worry. That’s a normal reaction, but you stayed calm, didn’t you?”

  Cassie sipped of her port. A thoughtful smile formed. “I did stay calm, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did.” He pulled her in, gave her a quick kiss, and held her while they finished their drinks. “I’m beat.”

  “Where are we going to sleep because the sleeping bags stink?”

  “Right here.” Jack pointed to sofa and grabbed the Pendleton wool blanket. He lay down and motioned for her next to him. He adjusted the blanket around them and held her in tight. “If you feel something poking you later on, ignore it.”

  Ray passed the opening to the county park and stopped a few hundred feet down at the next curve.

  “Get out so you don’t get hurt,” he said to Montana.

  She stood on the side of the road and watched Ray deliberately put the Jeep in the ditch. He locked up and joined her.

  “No one will ever think we’re at the park. If you hear any sort of vehicle, hit the ditch.”

  With Ray in the lead, they approached the park entrance. The county had run out of funds ages ago to continue maintenance twelve months out of the year. Over growth of salal and Oregon grape surrounded both sides of the road and the entrance area. Ray positioned them behind an old growth cedar stump covered with ferns. They had a view of the entrance but also the hillside leading up the compound. He tapped Montana’s ears to listen. Other than sounds of nature, it was silent.

  She knew Ray would be looking at her oddly, but she didn’t care. Montana pushed up her jacket sleeves and spread her hands in the air close to her body. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Slowly, she moved her hands around like a moving satellite dish—sound held vibration. Her hands stopped in the exact direction they’d just walked. Montana grabbed Ray’s arm and pointed down the road. He focused the binoculars and watched. Ray sucked in his breath and pulled Montana to the ground. A dark-colored hybrid vehicle with no lights flew passed them, down into the county park.

  “Stay here,” Ray whispered.

  She had zero intention of moving much beyond her hidden area. The sensations she’d felt in her hands, going from a hot burn to a cold chill, scared her. On her hands and knees, she crawled a short distance through the underbrush of the dense salal to the edge of the hillside overlooking the parking area. Montana stared into the darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Without light from the moon, only varying degrees of black existed. The quietness of people climbing up a slope barely echoed up to her. Her eyes strained to see the black shadows move around the vehicle. Other than someone hissing commands in an unfamiliar language, she wouldn’t have known anyone existed. Silently into the night, the vehicle disappeared up the road and out the gate.

  Returning back to the rotting stump, Montana watched and listened. Ray pulled back the bushes and crawled in. Her heart skipped so many beats she thought she was going to collapse. His finger touched her lips, indicating silence, and then pointed to the road. A lone figure of a shadow exited the park, walked down the road, and disappeared up the hillside into the woods.

  He whispered in her ear, “That confirms what you thought about a trail.” After a few minutes, Ray nudged her. “I’m going to get the Jeep. Do your hand radar thing and tell me if it’s clear.”

  In the darkness it was hard to tell if Ray was making fun of her; however, he had requested. Just like before, Montana raised her hands and concentrated. Only when her hands faced the wooded hillside did the tingling sensation move up and down her fingertips.

  “You’re clear.”

  “Stay here.”

  Ray took off down the road. In the still night, Montana winced listening to the sounds of the Jeep coming out of the ditch. Very clearly not a hybrid engine, Ray zoomed down the road and barely stopped for Montana to climb in. Hitting the gas hard, he took a right at a fork headed inland to Montana’s farm.

  “Tell me what you saw. Maybe the question should be what did you hear?” Ray asked her.

  “I’m sure that was the same vehicle that left Armstrong’s the other night. No sounds. It flew past me before I even realized it was coming or going. At first, I didn’t hear anything, but then footsteps.”

  “More than one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Language?”

  Montana shook her head thinking about it. “Too low for me to understand. The sounds were intense. What about you?”

  Ray turned into Montana’s driveway and stopped at her kitchen door. Instead of answering her, he asked, “Do you need me to check the house for you?” He took a quick glance.

  She grinned. “No, but thanks.” Poking him, she said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Ray turned in his seat toward her. “I know.”

  For a moment, Montana sensed he wanted to kiss her, but then not.

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

  “Ray, it gets easier.”

  Montana didn’t wait for a reply but hopped out. He waited until she was inside before he left. She watched the Jeep head down the road. Now there went a very complex man.

  “It does get easier, Ray, trust me.” Her voice faded to a hushed stillness.

  At the moment, she wasn’t sure what the “it” was, but she was willing to find out. Ray was a good man and possibly needed her help.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Cassie listened to Jack’s steady breathing. She had no idea what time it was, but light streamed through the window at the top of the stairs. Only coals remained in the wood burning stove, though the room was still warm. She loved the feel of his body around her, in her, holding her. It was a craving she couldn’t describe other than she was in love with him, and it was more than her childhood crush. She just prayed he felt the same way, though if he didn’t, Cassie felt she could cope. She had no choice.

  Jack groaned and shifted around, poking her with his very hard cock. She smiled. This was a guy with a lot of energy. He had said she made him hot. Cassie rolled over until her breasts crushed into his chest. Jack automatically rolled onto his back. She pulled off her outer clothes, and let his hands roam across her back and butt. A big smile formed on his face. She kissed his closed eyes and his mouth. After pulling off his sweatshirt, her kisses started at his mouth, but then went
down his chest, stopping at the swelling of his cock.

  He groaned and sighed. “So tell me, did you ever do it on this sofa before?” His voice was thick and unsteady.

  “You’re the first.” She took him in her mouth.

  “Ah, nice.”

  Cassie had to agree it was nice. Jack might be tired, but she wouldn’t know it by his reaction. In the end, he moved her on top of him and claimed her mouth. Not until she collapsed against him did he let go. The transference of his fluids energized her, but he fell back to sleep. Cassie tucked him in with the blanket and threw a couple pieces of wood on the fire. Within minutes, heat started pouring out. She headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Returning to the kitchen, Cassie started coffee.

  With all the windows covered, she felt claustrophobic. Peeking out between the drapes, she checked to see if anyone was walking the beach this early Sunday morning. Everything appeared quiet and peaceful. Cassie opened them, allowing the sun to shine in. The gurgling sounds from the coffeepot indicated it was ready. She glanced over the high back sofa to see if Jack were awake and ready for caffeine. Still asleep, a very slight smile formed his lips, and her heart swelled watching him. She wished she had his confidence to tell him what he meant to her.

  With her steaming cup, Cassie stood at the sliding glass door enjoying the view. Memories of her childhood fast forwarded to now. All of her mother’s goofy little sayings rang true: “it’s the little things that matter, Cassandra Marie.”

  “Yes they do, Mom,” she said softly.

  Sergei had never demonstrated anything more than selfishness, had treated her with contempt, which also showed up in his version of love making. For whatever reason, Jack’s engagements had fallen apart. Cassie knew one thing: it had nothing to do with his love making skills. But it was more than that; it was all the little things, like thoughtfulness, consideration, and passion.