by Desiree Holt
“Patrick?” Jason hitched an eyebrow. “What the hell? Aren’t you going to ask him what he means?”
“In a minute.” He smiled at the server, waited until everyone had their drinks, took a long swallow of his, and set the glass down. Then in a flat, even voice, he said, “Benny, what in the fuck are you talking about?”
Benny took a swallow of his fresh drink. “Just what I said. Got some nosy asses watching me. Asking about me. Oh, they think they’re so damn casual, and I won’t hear about it. But I got friends.”
“And what do your friends tell you?” Jason snapped. “That people are spying on you?”
Benny looked at Patrick. “What’d you bring this prick for?”
“Forget him. Jason, shut the hell up. Benny, who has been asking and what.”
“Mostly about the hours I keep on my boat. Hell, I been doing it that way for years. I don’t even know them, so what business is it of theirs?” A sly smile twisted his lips as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “They didn’t think I saw them watching from the overlook. Nosy bastards. But I did. I saw them, and I took some pictures.” He tapped his phone a couple of times then handed it to Patrick. “You know them?”
It took every bit of Patrick Shore’s discipline not to swear at the top of his voice. He had no idea who the man was, but Cassie Malone’s face was way too familiar to him. He’d breathed a tiny sigh of relief that she hadn’t gone to the DEA or any other law enforcement agency. She’d been smart enough to run and hide. What lousy twist of fate had sent her into hiding in the very place where his biggest deal yet was about to take place?
Lousy fucking bitch. But what the hell was she doing up here in Maine anyway? And how was it if she had connections up here she had never mentioned them to him?
God damn it to fucking hell.
Jason grabbed the phone and thumbed through the pictures.
“What is that bitch doing up here? You said she was taking care of a sick cousin in California.”
Patrick didn’t answer him. He was having a hard enough time keeping his temper under control. So, the little bitch Cassie Malone was here. If she somehow spotted him or got any hint of this she could fuck it all up. He wasn’t quite sure how that was possible, but he didn’t get where he was by leaving things to chance. Okay. He would find her and get rid of her. He should have hunted her down before this, but he had mistakenly written her off as a nobody. Time to correct that mistake.
“Benny, do you know if this woman is staying in Castile or Bar Harbor? Which one?”
He shrugged then took a healthy swallow of his drink.” Maybe.”
“This is bullshit.” Jason slammed the phone down next to his glass. People at the table nearest the booth glanced over at them.
“Stop it,” Patrick hissed. “We don’t need to call attention to ourselves. Losing your cool is not going to help this situation.”
Although Patrick was having a hard time holding on to his own cool at the moment. Dealing with Benny had always been a challenge. If the old man hadn’t been so perfect for this, he’d have gotten rid of him a long time ago. He had spent years building up this operation. Gathering the right people. Setting up the streams. Making money on top of money.
“She’s been watching me,” Benny added.
Patrick froze, as did Jason, and they exchanged a knowing look.
“Watching you how?” Patrick asked.
“There’s a curve in the road to town that makes a good overlook. She and the guy staying in one of the rental cottages watch me now and then.”
“Now and then?” Patrick almost shouted the words. The he remembered how he told Jason to calm down.
“Yeah, you know. Not every day. The guy mostly takes a look when he runs on the beach.”
“What would they find so fascinating?” Jason glared at Benny. “I thought you told me your irregular hours were so common no one paid attention to them anymore.”
“Ayup. ‘Sright. But she ain’t been here in a long time and he’s brand new. Some injured vet hiding from the world, I hear. A frogman, I think the realtor guy told someone in the bar.”
“A frogman?” Patrick’s blood chilled. “You mean a Navy SEAL?”
“What the fuck?” Jason looked from one to the other. “This is just fucked. Patrick, I —”
Patrick held up a hand, which he was pleased to see wasn’t shaking. “I’ve got it covered.”
“But a SEAL,” Jason protested. “those guys are invincible. I hear they’ll even come back from the dead to kill you.”
“A little farfetched,” Patrick said. “Don’t you think? I’ll find that bitch, Cassie, and she can lead me to the SEAL. I can take care of both of them at the same time.”
“Yeah,” Jason snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“This exchange will go off as panned,” Patrick insisted. ‘You may have to do the supervising while I hunt down those two, but we’ll get it done. Can you handle that?”
“Dumb question,” Jason sneered. “Consider it done and without incident.”
Patrick took a final swallow of his drink. Priority One right now was finding Cassie and getting rid of her and her new fuck buddy. He was not about to let some piece of ass destroy it all. And he did not have much time to find her. Delivery and exchange was tomorrow.
He handed Benny’s phone back to him. “Where am I most likely to find her? You know everything about everything around here.”
Which was true. He’d discovered that when setting up this operation.
“Patrick.” Jason cleared his throat. “The handoff is scheduled for ten o’clock in the morning. If you stay out of sight until then, she won’t know you’re here. Let’s make the switch, get the goods on our boat, then find the bitch and get rid of her. If we screw up this exchange, we may not get another chance.”
Patrick admit to himself his friend was right, but he hadn’t gotten to where he was by leaving any strings dangling. Acid churned in his gut as he thought about tomorrow, but he needed to take care of his personal nasty business tonight. He’d just slip away from Jason and find her. Castile wasn’t that big and he had a knack for ferreting things out.
“Fine. You’re right. Okay, Benny.” He slid a small square of paper across the table. “Here’s the time you need to pull out in the morning, and here’s the rendezvous spot. The driver of the other boat is filling the traps tonight. Tomorrow we’ll haul them up and, pretending to bait them again, load the exchange merchandise into them. If they haven’t left our goods, we don’t leave theirs.”
They went over everything several more times until Patrick was comfortable every detail was burned into Benny’s aging brain, and that Jason could handle the exchange with him. Then he signaled for the check. He had things to do. He wasn’t about to wait until the middle of the day tomorrow to find Cassie Malone.
“Benny, you sure you got this down?” Jason asked.
Benny gave him a dirty look. “I’m sure. You just have my money ready.”
Chapter 9
Cassie was just wishing this whole thing would be over already and Patrick in jail. Her stomach was tied in a permanent knot from fear, and she could hardly choke down the delicious pastry.
Chaz Allman, the DEA agent, had called his boss and reported the meeting between Benny and two men. He’d managed to snap a picture which ultimately made its way to Scooter. He then showed it to Cassie and Sam.
She grabbed Sam’s hand and held onto to it. “The one on the left is Patrick. The other one is his partner, Jason something.”
“They arrived last night,” Allman told them. “That’s why we believe the shipment exchange is scheduled for today.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Sam wanted to know.
“Okay.” Chaz leaned forward. “It goes like this.”
It was well after midnight by the time they had all been drilled on the details. Scooter suggest they all catch a couple of hours of shuteye before they put the plan in play. Cassie was too jazzed to sleep so she
pretended while the two men took one of their famous power naps. She knew Margie would be up by five to go to the bakery and they needed to get there before, so at quarter to five she nudged them awake and told them they needed to get going. Bruce was also awake when they knocked on the Hagers’ back door. Offering apologies, Cassie explained the situation and told Margie she wouldn’t be opening the bakery that morning. If she agreed to this, of course.
“You can bet Patrick Shore is on the hunt for Cassie,” Scooter told he Hagers. “And I’m sure Benny told him about being watched from the overlook, found out who you were, at least you, Cassie, and—”
“But we didn’t—” Cassie interrupted.
Sam squeezed her hand. “If that old guy is cagey enough to be part of this drug scheme, then he’s sharp enough to have noticed us. My bad. I should have thought of that. Maybe more than my arm got injured.”
“You weren’t looking for this,” Scoter pointed out, “Why would you be?”
“Anyway,” Chaz continued, “you can bet they’ll be on the lookout for you, Cassie. You need to be someplace safe.”
“I could just go to the bakery with Margie.”
“That would put both you and Margie out in the open and in danger. This is better.”
“Besides,” Cassie added. “Patrick would have no qualms about shooting everyone to get rid of me. And he’d do it in a way that would allow him to escape.”
Margie wasn’t happy about disappointing her customers, but neither she nor Margie wanted to take a chance on other people’s lives. Then Chaz and Scooter explained what her other job would be, and she agreed without further argument.
“Anything to keep you safe,” she told Cassie, giving her a big hug. ry night not be the safest place.
“And I have a shotgun I know how to use,” Bruce put in. “I hunt during the season.”
Chaz nodded. “Better yet.”
Bruce went to the bakery to post a sign that they were closed for the day and when he came back, he reported an all clear.
A half hour later, the men had left and Cassie, Margie, and Bruce were sitting around the kitchen table with coffee and chocolate-cinnamon bread.
“I’m sorry to put you in this position,” Cassie told the Hagers. “I guess being my friend isn’t always so much fun.”
“Cassie.” Margie reached over and placed her hand on Cassie’s arm. “Being your friend is a pleasure and an honor.” She grinned. “So just shut up.”
Sam had told he would text her or call if necessary. She wished he’d do it already, checking the screen every few minutes. Time seemed to drag. Just about the time she was sure she could not drink another cup of coffee, the phone rang.
“Is it over?” she asked.
“Almost,” Sam told her.
“What does that mean?”
“We got the drugs from both sides, the boat from Canada and the people on it, Benny’s boat with drugs on it, and Jason LaValle, Patrick’s partner.”
She tightened her grip on the phone so hard it dug into her hand.
“What about Patrick?”
“We finally bargained with Benny to tell us where the asshole went.” There was a pause. “Cassie, he’s on his way to the Hagers. Benny knows you’re friends and told him.”
“And they have the address?”
“Not hard to find. The DEA agents have the drug dealers and Benny. Chaz, Scooter, and I are on the way to the Hagers. Needless to say, don’t open the door for anyone. We’ll be there in less than five minutes.”
She relayed the information to Margie and Bruce.
“I’m so sorry you guys got dragged into this. I never meant for any of this to touch you.”
“Friends take care of friends,” Bruce assured her.
At that moment, they heard the sound of breaking glass.
“Oh god,” Cassie whispered.
“Just sit there,” Bruce instructed. “Think about it, Cassie. He won’t kill you until he gets everything off his chest. Just sit and don’t look this way.”
Bruce stepped into the hallway, waiting out of sight for the intruder to enter the kitchen. He cocked his shotgun, ready to use it.
“Well, well, well. Isn’t this a cozy sight?” He looked at Margie. “You must be Mrs. Hager. Too bad for you today. Where’s your husband?”
Margie looked pale as a ghost, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. “He’s gone to get something from work.”
“And left you two ladies alone? I don’t think so. Get up. We’ll go and find him.”
Nausea bubbled in Cassie’s throat at the sound of Patrick’s voice. How had she ever found him attractive or exciting? Stupid must be her middle name. She curled her hands around her coffee mug and forced herself to sit still in her chair.
“You know the police are here in Castile,” she told him. “I understand the DEA is all over the place. You’d better get going before they catch you.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he sneered. “Tucked away in prison. You bitch. I just know you had something to do with this. Well, before they take me, you’ll pay. Get up, both of you.”
“Don’t hurt my friend,” she added. “She has nothing to do with this. I’ll come with you. Just don’t hurt her.”
“No, Cassie,” Margie protested.
“Your friend is right. I don’t need the extra baggage. So get up, both of you.” He frowned. “Or if you’d rather, I can just shoot you both here.”
At that moment Cassie saw Bruce step into the kitchen, shotgun barrel now pressed against Patrick’s back.
“I don’t think so. Drop your gun, or I’ll blow a hole in you big enough to drive a boat through.”
Cassie saw Patrick’s eyes widened and the color drain from his face.
“I said drop it,” Bruce repeated. “Right now.”
They heard the click as the bolt action slid into place. Apparently, Patrick did, too, because he started to lower the hand holding the weapon. But Cassie saw his body tense and knew he was going to try something.
“Bruce, watch him,” Margie cried out.
Then everything happened all at once. Patrick dropped to his knees and swung around to point his gun at Bruce. The back door crashed in and Scooter, Chaz, and Sam burst into the room, guns pointed at Patrick. Cradling his right hand with his left one, Sam shot twice at Patrick, hitting the man’s hand and knocking the gun out of it.
“God damn it!” Patrick’s voice was laced with pain, blood running down his arm and dripping to the floor. “You fucker. You shot me.”
“I’m happy to do it again,” Sam told him. “Just give me a reason.”
And then it became very busy in the kitchen. Margie, the epitome of calm, put her arms around Cassie, while Scooter lifted the shotgun from Bruce and leaned it against the wall in the pantry closet. Chaz was on his cell phone, talking in short, clipped sentences.
That’s when Cassie fell apart. The tears she’d been suppressing for weeks welled up and flowed unimpeded down her cheeks. At some point, Margie relinquished her into Sam’s embrace. She leaned into the broad, firm chest and just gave in to the crying. She’d been holding it back for a long, long time, all the tension, the fear, the panic. Sam just stood there in silence, stroking her back, letting her get it all out.
At last, she lifted her head and looked up at him.
“I’m a mess, aren’t I.”
“Not at all.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth. “But if you are, you’re my mess.”
She moved away and wrapped her arms around Margie again.
“God, I am so sorry about all this. But thank you, thank you. Thank you.” She glanced to the side. “You, too, Bruce. I’m only sorry you didn’t get to blow a hole in the bastard.”
Bruce laughed. “Me, too.”
“Where he’s going,” Sam put in, “he might wish you had.”
Margie made fresh coffee, which they all accepted gratefully. Another hour passed before Scooter showed up to give them a report. Cassie knew it
would be a while before she could fully relax, knowing Patrick would not be able to get at her. Margie was determined on opening the bakery after that, but not before Sam insisted on taking them all for pizza. Hardly anyone had eaten anything for breakfast and now, with the lowering of tension, they were all hungry.
Sam grabbed Cassie and gave her a hot but brief kiss.
“And then you and I have some talking to do.”
She wasn’t sure whether she should be excited or afraid.
Scooter tracked them down at the restaurant and caught them up on what was going on. While everything was happening in Castile, DEA agents were raiding the warehouse outside of Boston where Patrick ran his drug-processing operation. Fifteen people had been arrested. Patrick, Jason, Benny, and the boat captain from Halifax were all under lock and key. The head of the DEA had called his counterpart in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and given him information to shut down the operations in Canada.
“New ones will pop up,” Scooter told them, “but at least this huge one is out of commission. Okay, guys. My ride’s waiting, but Sam? I’m calling you in a couple of days. Think about what I said and talk it over with Cassie.”
Sam nodded. “Will do.”
“What was that all about,” Cassie asked after Scooter left.
“Later,” he told her. “Let’s finish lunch first.”
They helped Margie get Rolling in Dough open. Bruce decided he’d hang around for a while, just because. There weren’t any more people from the operation left in town, but he said he’d still feel better making sure Margie was okay.
It was midafternoon by the time Cassie found herself back at the cabin with Sam. She was still hyper from the whole business, so when Sam lowered his mouth to hers for a deep kiss, she fell into it greedily. She welcomed his tongue, sliding hers over it then sucking on it hard. Impatient to feel more of him, she unsnapped his jeans and lowered the zipper then reached inside to find the hot, hard length of his cock.
“A little eager, are we?” he teased.
“A lot eager.”
“Then we should take this to the bedroom.”
Clothes went flying as they stripped them off and fell onto the bed. Cassie at once reached for Sam’s swollen, pulsing cock again, closing her fingers around it and stoking up and down. When she straddled him and lowered her head to lick him, he put his hands around her waist.
