Emerald Fire

by Monica McCabe

  Then he saw it. The bag she’d been holding, the one containing a frothy piece of peach colored fabric she had fallen in love with. It lay on the ground with one end of the scarf trampled into the dirt. He picked it up, breath going shallow as he scanned the immediate area and came up with nothing.

  “You looking for the pretty lady?”

  Finn turned around to see a young boy of about fourteen standing with hands on his hips, a calculating expression lighting up his face.

  “Auburn hair, green shorts, and a beige top?” Finn asked.

  The boy nodded. “I saw her.”

  Finn waited, but the kid didn’t offer anything more. “Well…?”

  The boy held out his hand, palm up, and Finn ground his teeth. For someone so young, the little urchin knew how to work the streets. But Finn didn’t hesitate and pulled out a twenty. When the extortionist went to take it, Finn snatched his hand back. “Talk first, Pal.”

  His lips twisted for a second, but then he started to spill. “She was looking at those baskets when she stopped and stared at a man.”

  “What man?”

  The boy shrugged. “He was wearing a red shirt. He started her way, and she turned to run away, only there was another guy right behind her. He grabbed her, and that’s when she dropped the bag.”

  Finn’s heart slammed into full-on panic. “Where did they go?”

  “I followed them to an alley. One of those places we go for breaks from the touristas.”

  “Show me.”

  “Pay first.”

  Finn handed him the twenty.

  “Follow me.”

  They rounded the corner and got about halfway down when the kid stopped and pointed to an aisle between stalls. “Down there. There’s two of them. Want some help?”

  The kid had courage. Or he wanted another twenty. Either way Finn shook his head. “Not this time.”

  With a shrug, the boy took off and Finn stared down the alley. He couldn’t see or hear a thing. He hoped he hadn’t just fallen into a scam. It wouldn’t be the first time a trusting tourist was duped into a fleecing down a dark alley. He spied a broken length of two by two on the ground and grabbed it, then silently headed in.

  * * * *

  “You have a smart mouth, bitch,” Jud growled from behind her.

  He was cutting off her air again, and this time Chloe fought against the attack for all she was worth. She kicked, threw all her weight back against the creep, but no matter what she tried, it didn’t work.

  Hosea watched her struggle, doing nothing. Spots were beginning to cloud her vision when he finally called for Jud to stop.

  For the second time that morning, she gulped in air.

  “We discuss that little book now,” Hosea said.

  Chloe coughed and wheezed a few times, struggling to get control enough to think, much less talk.

  The scumbag waited impatiently, lightly tossing the knife in the air and catching it, doing his best to intimidate his quarry. It was working. She could no longer feel her fingers thanks to Jud’s overly zealous grip, and she was beginning to believe she might not make it out of the situation alive.

  “Where is it?” Hosea asked.

  “Sank,” Chloe croaked.

  “This is most unfortunate,” he replied. “The loss must trouble you greatly, si? Tell me about the treasure.”

  “Not treasure…history,” she rasped, straining against a bruised larynx. “War of 1812.”

  He shook his head. “I do not care about your history. Miguel said treasure. Where is it?”

  She wasn’t giving up a single clue to this lowlife. “A myth.”

  Hosea dropped his head and sighed. When he finally glanced up, Chloe saw unreasonable anger glaring back at her. There wasn’t much time left, and she knew without a doubt, this wasn’t going to end well. Hosea wanted someone to pay for the loss of his big money score, and it looked like she was it.

  He held up the commando blade, ran his finger down the sharp curve. “Last chance,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be this way, senorita.”

  “If you kill me, you’ll never know the truth.” It was a last ditch effort, but she was out of ideas.

  “I have no boat, no treasure, no money.” He no longer played with his knife, but held it ready to fight. “I have you.”

  She didn’t really like the sound of that. Where was Finn? If ever she needed him, it was now.

  “I can sell you,” Hosea said with a sadistic grin. “A pretty girl like you would bring me much cash.”

  He looked dead serious. Did he mean human trafficking or kidnapping for ransom? She didn’t dare ask. But then again, either one was a better option that being knifed in an alley.

  A blur caught her eye. A dark-haired attacker burst from the alley and body-slammed Hosea before he could use the knife to defend himself. A burst of relief sent a pulse of new life into her veins. Finnegan!

  The two men hit the ground, momentum sending them crashing up against a makeshift wall. It teetered precariously, and a muffled scream sounded from the other side. No one came out to investigate.

  When Jud swore behind her, she began struggling, thinking to keep him busy as a way of preventing him from helping his boss. At the same time, she kept a desperate watch on the battle. When Finn’s fist made contact with Hosea’s jaw, she savored a sense of payback, but that quickly changed to horror as the pirate rebounded, the wicked knife in his hand and death in his eye.

  Hosea slashed; Finn jumped back. They circled and parried, using whatever was in their path to defeat or disable the other, which wasn’t much beyond a broken piece of wood, bare fists, and that blade. Hosea made contact once, the knife tip catching Finn’s shirt and slicing. Chloe’s heart stopped when she saw a thin line of red blood, but it didn’t slow down the fight, and they kept at each other.

  Their odds suddenly improved when the two combatants moved within her range. Though Jud had yanked her backward to get out of the way, she was able to kick her foot out and make solid contact with Hosea’s thigh. His glare promised retribution, but Finn took full advantage of the split second’s inattention and went on the offensive, landing a punishing blow to Hosea’s gut.

  The pirate doubled over with a whoosh of lost air. Finn didn’t pause and followed through with a lethal upper cut that jerked Hosea’s head back and knocked him into the little table. He went down with a grunt of pain.

  Hosea lay still on the ground, and Finn snatched up the knife. He turned and advanced on her and Jud, one deliberate step after the other. Her captor pulled her back a step, retreating from the cold look of fury in Finn’s gaze.

  “Let her go,” Finn demanded.

  Jud hesitated, then took another step backward, dragging her with him. He had no weapon that Chloe knew of, which meant she was his only protection from Finn and the knife. He wouldn’t release her willingly.

  “If you don’t want to die,” Finn said with fatal intensity, “then release her now.”

  Something about the deadly tone of Finn’s voice must have registered with Jud. His grip loosened, and she was suddenly shoved forward. She tried to catch herself but her arms were completely numb and she stumbled, falling forward.

  Finn caught her as Jud raced down the alley.

  “It’s all right,” he said with a catch in his voice. “I’ve got you, Chloe.”

  Relief nearly overwhelmed her. “What took you so long?”

  Chapter 20

  The marketplace was close to the resort; they’d walked there this morning. But that wasn’t an option with angry pirates set on revenge prowling the grounds. Finn hailed them a cab. If anyone planned on following them, they’d be in for a merry chase.

  They jumped in the back seat and Finn shouted to the driver a location in the opposite direction of the resort. The cabbie sped off and Finn sat back. “Tell me they weren’t the damn pirates?” he asked Chloe.

  She leaned her head back against the seat
and closed her eyes, too keyed-up to actually relax, but shaken enough to need a moment to gain some sort of control. “The man you tackled is Hosea.” Talking hurt her throat, and her voice sounded an octave lower than normal. “I think he’s the leader of the Boca Chica gang.”

  His expression darkened. “How the hell did they find us?”

  She rolled her head to look at him. “Something about radio traffic.”

  Finn frowned and reached over to lightly touch her neck. Based on his furious expression, she figured it was already bruising. He brushed the palm of his hand across her cheek, then tugged her closer, resting his forehead on hers. “When I saw what was happening in that alley,” he whispered, “I wanted to kill the bastard.”

  She shivered. That had been too close. If not for Finn, she very well could’ve died in that dank, sad little courtyard.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said quietly.

  He kissed her softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I would’ve torn the place apart to find you.”

  She couldn’t speak around the lump forming in her throat and, to her horror, she felt tears well up in her eyes. She could stand strong against a Caribbean pirate, but if Finn kissed her, she fell apart.

  It was just reaction setting in, that was all. She took a deep breath and wiped a shaking hand across her eyes. Then remembered Finn’s injury.

  She pushed forward on the seat. “You were bleeding,” she said urgently, immediately reaching for his now-ruined shirt and lifting it. A thin red line about three inches long marked his side, but it wasn’t deep.

  He grabbed her hands and pulled her to his good side. “I’m fine, Chloe. You can patch me up back at the room.”

  She nodded and rested a tired head against his shoulder, closing her eyes again as relief washed through her. Right then and there she sent up a quick prayer of thanks for both their lives.

  Finn’s arms tightened around her. “Tell me what they said to you.”

  What she wouldn’t give for a bottle of water right now, maybe an aspirin, something to soothe the ache in her throat. But she tried to explain, talking over the discomfort. “Hosea was…furious…that we sank the Emerald Fire,” she managed to get out. “Said we owed him two-million dollars to cover his losses.”

  Finn rested his cheek against the top of her head and heaved a sigh that sounded like inevitability. “He’s not going to quit. We probably don’t have much time before he strikes again.” He said it with finality, as though it were a sure thing.

  It probably was. Hosea had now been beaten twice by Finn. That wasn’t something the pirate was going to let pass.

  Finn sat up and gave new directions to the cabbie, sending them back to the resort. “First thing we have to do is get off this island,” he said. “Did Hosea ever call you by name?”

  She frowned, thinking back, then shook her head. “No. Why?”

  “If we’re lucky, there’s a slim chance he doesn’t know who we are just yet. That may buy us some time.”

  “Yet” being the key word. Two-million dollars was a lot of incentive for anyone, especially a pirate, to gather information. It probably wouldn’t take long to connect them with Lisa.

  The cab pulled up to the main entrance of the Grand Lucayan Resort, and they got out. Finn paid the driver cash through the window, and they hurried into the elegant lobby and straight for the elevators. As they rode to the sixth floor, Chloe realized she carried a bag. Her new sundresses. The vague memory of snatching the bag off the ground as they ran floated across her mind. Feminine instinct, reward for surviving, whatever it was called, she was glad they hadn’t become a casualty of the attack.

  Uncle Jonathan was waiting for them when they entered the main suite. That he was up and about was a great sign. He was still pale and rough about the edges, and he sported a three-day growth of beard, but he looked able enough to get on a plane and go home. He took one glance at them when they walked through the door and immediately rose from the couch.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Our pirate friends found us,” Finn said.

  “Impossible,” Uncle Jon said. “We were picked up in the middle of a storm and dropped off in the Bahamas, well away from the Turks and Caicos.”

  Chloe dropped her bag on the desk and hugged her uncle. “They were monitoring radio traffic, searching for us. They must’ve heard the Seagrove’s call to shore when we were rescued.”

  Uncle Jon held her at arm’s length, staring at the damage to her throat with a concerned frown. “What the hell did they do?”

  Chloe and Finn took turns explaining—mostly Finn as she still sounded a bit raspy—while they were gathering what few things they had and cramming them into their now well-worn duffle bag.

  She disappeared into the bathroom for a quick inspection of her neck. Reaching behind her, she unclasped the necklace Finn gave her and looked it over carefully. It had dried blood on the seashells, but it wasn’t hurt. She ran some warm water and rinsed the shells, lightly rubbing to get it clean. She then pressed it between two towels to dry. Only then did she tend to her neck, soaking a washcloth in warm water and bathing the scratches on her skin. It wasn’t as bad as she expected. The warm cloth was soothing, and she rinsed again, warmer this time, and rubbed the back of her neck. A long hot shower would be heaven right now.

  Instead, she put the necklace back on, grabbed the few personal items she’d bought at the gift shop, and headed back into the suite.

  “So this Hosea guy knew about the journal?” Uncle Jon asked her as she re-entered the room and deposited everything into the bag.

  “He knew,” Chloe said. “Claimed the pirate who stabbed you told him we were looking for a treasure.”

  “The sorry bastard,” her uncle muttered as he absently rubbed his bandaged thigh.

  “Your turn,” she said to Finn as she grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchenette, snagging the bag of medical supplies on the way. As Chloe rinsed the cloth in warm water, he pulled off the sliced-up shirt. She turned back to bare chest and paused. Her eyes roamed over the contour of muscle and shadow to the light sprinkling of hair that narrowed and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. The man could be disheveled, bruised, in desperate need of a shave, and still manage to radiate sexy.

  She lifted her eyes to his, saw the slight lifting of one brow and the invitation it offered. Heat filled her cheeks, and she gave herself a mental shake, forcing her attention back to doctoring him up.

  She rested one hand against his abs and used the other to cleanse the angry red slice on his side. She wasn’t brave enough to look up again, despite the warm hand that came up to cover hers and squeeze.

  Finn breathed a soft laugh at her cowardice, then spoke over his shoulder to her uncle. “Hosea is demanding money, said that Lisa only paid him half the fee.”

  “He actually expects us to pay the other half of her blood money?” Uncle Jon asked incredulously. “The payment for killing Mike and Brett?”

  Chloe thought the situation was bad enough, but when put like that, it sounded even worse. And there was more, not that she wanted to share. He needed to hear about Lisa, but she didn’t want pile on to his heartache.

  “You might as well tell him,” Finn said.

  She frowned and grabbed the bottle of peroxide they’d bought for Uncle Jon’s injury. She soaked a cotton ball and pressed it against Finn’s wound. He hissed at the sting, but didn’t complain.

  Her uncle had stood and limped his way closer. “Tell me what?”

  When she still didn’t answer, Finn said, “He claimed the other half would come once Boston Marine paid her.”

  Her uncle’s jaw hardened. Chloe tossed the used cotton balls in the trash and focused on patting Finn dry with sterile gauze and gave up the truth. “Hosea said we owe him two-million to compensate for his loss when we sank the yacht.”

  “That’s preposterous!” Jonathan roared.

  “I
agree,” Finn said. “We escaped today, but he’ll be looking for us. It’s safe to assume they know Lisa lives in Boston and we’re somehow connected. They’ll be watching the airport.”

  “It probably won’t take him long to figure out who we are,” Chloe said as she applied an antibiotic ointment to Finn’s wound. “They may already know.”

  “It also means they’ll go after Lisa.” Uncle Jon sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island, like the weight of that realization was too heavy.

  And Lisa was in for a rough ride if they found her. There were no words of comfort for that, so Chloe just silently bandaged Finn’s side and packed the medical supplies back into the plastic grocery bag. At the rate things were going, it might be time to invest in a serious first aid kit.

  “I can’t believe she tried to have me killed.” Her uncle sat there staring at nothing, lost in his own misery. But it was a burden of truth all three of them shared.

  “I’m so sorry, Uncle Jon.”

  He sighed heavily and shook his head. “I’m the one who is sorry. I married her. All of this is my fault.”

  She immediately circled the kitchen island and came up behind her uncle, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Don’t say that. Don’t accept responsibility for her actions.”

  He patted her hands and lowered his head with a drawn out sigh. “Even after all she’s done, the thought of the pirates getting their hands on her scares me. She needs to pay for her crimes, but not that way.”

  Chloe agreed. They would do some serious damage. Hosea might even sell her, like he threatened to do to her. She disliked her step-aunt with an intensity that bordered on hate, but she wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

  “I can call a detective friend who owes me a favor,” Finn said as he pulled on a Lucayan Resort polo shirt. “I’ll have him watch over her, just in case. And I can ask him to start gathering proof against her.”

  Her uncle nodded in agreement and rose from the barstool. “I’ll call Sam Brady. Get him to arrange for a charter plane since the airport isn’t safe.” Jonathan limped over to the media center and placed the call.