High Stakes Escape

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High Stakes Escape Page 14

by Elizabeth Goddard


  “I think you are.” The wariness she’d tried to hide broke through the cracks. “You want to join me?”

  “I guess we’re not meeting at the Laundromat?” Ben pushed off from the wall and strolled around the corner between the two separate strip malls, stepping into the shadows. At the sight of her safe and sound—though still in danger—relief rushed through him, sending his heart rate jumping. In her hazel eyes, he thought he saw that she was equally ecstatic to see him.

  Ecstatic?

  Yeah. Thrilled. Relieved. Overjoyed.

  “Ben...” She hurried forward but held back. Would she have jumped in his arms if she hadn’t stopped herself?

  If she had gone even one step farther, Ben would have caught her and pulled her close. He wanted to catch her up against him even now. He held her gaze for a few breaths, taking in her thick red hair and peachy-dream features. When he finally found his voice, he said, “I was so worried.”

  She nodded. “And I’m sorry.”

  They could talk about this later. “Let’s get somewhere safe. Where are you staying?”

  “I’ve got a room at the Cottage Inn Motel around the corner. We can talk in private there.”

  He shadowed her around the back of the buildings, through another alley and then to the motel. She unlocked the door and he followed in after her, his mind going in a million directions.

  Inside the room, she flipped on the lights.

  Ben took a seat at the small corner table. “I’m here like you asked. I didn’t tell anyone we talked. No one has followed me—that I know of. Please, Chasey. Tell me what you know.”

  “I turned on my phone, thinking that my uncle would try to get in touch, but Bright texted me. He struggles to communicate verbally, but he can text a few words. And he told me enough that I know where they’re headed.”

  “And where is that?”

  “An island in the Caribbean. We used to vacation there in the summers with Mom. We saw my uncle there, too. We stayed at a big house on the island that used to be part of an old sugar plantation. It’s just a vacation house now, but it’s built like a fortress.”

  “Do you know exactly where the island is? I mean there are, like, hundreds of islands in the Caribbean.”

  “Yes, I remembered the name and then I pulled it up on a computer at an internet café so I could write down the longitude and latitude. It’s technically within the United States—part of Puerto Rico’s many islands. The name is Isla de la Alegría.” She passed the coordinates she’d written down to Ben. “It means Island of Joy.”

  He stared at the longitude and latitude. “And you’re sure this is where your uncle and brother have gone.”

  “As sure as I can be. I need your help to go there and get Brighton back. Please help me.”

  He couldn’t help the frown that emerged. When he saw her dismayed response, he realized that Chasey had seen his hesitation and misunderstood. He rose and grabbed her hands. “I’ll help you. You know I will. You and Brighton are my priority. But in going there, we need to recapture your uncle and bring him back, otherwise what’s to stop him from coming after the two of you again next week or the week after? But if we are going to capture him, it’ll be a bigger job than I can handle on my own, especially since we don’t know how many men he has with him. Frankly, even going in after Brighton will be difficult if we don’t have more backup. I need to tell the task force that’s been put together where Theo is so they can bring him in.” God, please let her understand. “It’s the only way we can safely get to Brighton, don’t you see?”

  “No. What if there’s another leak of information? I can’t risk losing Brighton again. If the wrong person finds out, Ben... You can’t promise me that won’t happen.”

  He nodded and stared at the floor, an idea forming. “Okay. All right. I’ll go. I’ll go alone and I’ll get Brighton out safely. Then I’ll inform my superior, who will tell the team about your uncle and where he can be found.”

  They weren’t going to like it.

  Chasey nodded, looking relieved. “That plan sounds okay, but you’re missing one piece. I have to go with you, Ben. You can’t communicate with Brighton like I can. I need to be there for him. We go together.”

  Ben rubbed his mouth. He hated the idea of her in harm’s way. On the other hand, he remembered how difficult it had been to communicate with Brighton when the siblings were in protective custody prior to the trial. There were days when Chasey was the only one who could get through to him. How much harder would the situation be if Brighton was already frightened and upset after his abduction? Chasey really was the best option to get him to leave quietly.

  “All right. To do this, to go in there to get Brighton out, we need a good plan,” he said. He wasn’t sure even a good plan would be enough, but he would agree to her terms for now.

  “And that could be a problem. We don’t have time to sit around and plan this out. We can talk about it on the way there. We have to hurry...” Her features twisted as she took two steps forward and then she pressed her forehead against Ben’s chest and sobbed.

  He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her forever. Protect her. His heart ached for her and, finally, he gave in, wrapping his arms around her.

  He said nothing because what was there to say? Instead he held her until she stopped sobbing. He had a feeling she had been holding back this entire time, and whatever it was she was about to tell him had pushed her over the edge.

  He would wait patiently until she was ready.

  Chasey sniffled and looked up at him, her eyes and nose red. Her gaze emanated just how vulnerable she was.

  “Brighton told me... He’s scared.”

  She wiped a hand across her nose and stepped back. “Look, I know my uncle. I know how he thinks. They might be on that island for now, but I’m sure it’s just a stopping place while he waits for his terrorist buddies to pick him up and get him to a new location in another country far away and out of our reach. If we don’t get to Brighton now, I know that I will never see him again.”

  * * *

  A lump grew in her throat. She was asking so much of this man. A deputy marshal, her handler, inspector, whatever he wanted to call himself. He was all of those things, but he was also so much more than that. He was her friend and one thing she knew about Ben was that he was trustworthy. So she’d ask him these questions just once, and trust that the answers he’d give her would be the truth.

  “Well, Ben, what next? You are going to help me, aren’t you? If not, tell me now. I don’t have time to waste. I need to save my brother.” She left out that she didn’t exactly have a plan B if Ben decided not to help her, after all. What would she do? Hightail it out of here and rent a private jet to the Caribbean?

  She scratched her head. She could actually do that. She had a little bit of money tucked away. A trust fund her mother had left her that her uncle hadn’t gotten his hands on. But she’d never wanted to touch it, mostly keeping it for Brighton in case something ever happened to her. Someone had to pay the bills to care for him. Government payments, disability, none of that would cover it all.

  I’m all he has...

  She turned her back on Ben, not wanting him to see her anguish.

  “I already told you I would help.” He spoke over her shoulder, his breath tickling her ear.

  She hung her head, sucked in a bolstering breath then turned to face him. She could hug him. Jump in his arms. She could even love this guy because he was just so lovable. Those dimples appeared in his cheeks again and her stomach flip-flopped like she was in middle school, crushing all over again.

  Be still my heart.

  No, seriously. Be still. The “don’t fall in love with him again” plan has already fallen through. The best you can hope for now is to stick to the “get used to the idea that you can’t be together” plan.

  Ben gently l
ifted the curtains to peer out, an all too familiar sight.

  Lord, please just let this be over soon.

  He turned to her. “Everyone is looking for you. You know that, right?”

  “Everyone?”

  “The FBI. The US Marshals Service. Do you want me to keep going?”

  “No.”

  “Probably your uncle, too. He could have been the one to send that text, or coerced Brighton into sending it. You know that, right?”

  “Either way, I have to go. He either took Brighton as retaliation, to hurt me, or because he has some other use for him. Even if this is the best-case scenario and he took Brighton because he cares about him and wants to look after him, he’s not someone Brighton would be safe around. Nothing about my uncle will ever be safe.”

  Ben’s eyes took her in, and she thought she could read what he was thinking.

  You’re not safe anywhere near your uncle, either.

  He held his hand out to her and she took it. “Let’s go get your brother back.”

  She nodded, wanting to say thank you, but tears choked her throat. Chasey pushed down the emotions and the gratitude. She needed to be strong for what came next.

  He eased the door open and peeked out. Once he slipped out the door, he edged over to the alley and she followed close at his heels. The evening was getting on and it would be dark in an hour or so. Chasey thought the shadows worked well for them, just in case anyone had followed Ben.

  She crept with Ben through the alley, wishing they had time to make better, more careful plans to get to Brighton. But then again, they could have that discussion on the way.

  “I don’t know how you planned to get us to the island, Ben, but I have an idea.”

  Two men suddenly stepped into the alley and faced them. One aimed a weapon. A gunshot rang out as Ben shoved her out of the way behind a dumpster. Chasey screamed and covered her head, waiting for more gunshots as Ben fired back. But gunshots didn’t resume. She turned to see Ben lying in the alley, horribly still.

  Another man was standing over him, not one of the two who’d been facing them a moment earlier. He’d come from behind them? Ignoring the others, she scrambled over to Ben’s side.

  “Ben?” she whispered, her heart jackhammering. “Ben!”

  The man grabbed her and pulled her away.

  “Let me go!”

  “You’re coming with us.”

  She felt a prick in her arm and darkness edged her vision. She kept her eyes on Ben, sprawled on the ground in the garbage. Was he dead? Ben...

  Darkness took her.

  SIXTEEN

  Head pounding, Ben blinked his eyes open and then shut them fast again when someone shone a flashlight in his face.

  “Sir, please open your eyes again,” the paramedic instructed. “I need to check for signs of a concussion.”

  He had just opened his eyes again to comply when he heard his name being called out.

  “Bradley!” The shout came from the other end of the alley. Ben sat up and rubbed his head.

  He recognized his chief’s voice as the man rushed forward, standing there with barely leashed patience as the EMT continued checking him over.

  “Definitely a concussion,” the paramedic concluded, and then spent the next few minutes going over the dos and don’ts for his recovery before trying to convince him to ride back to the hospital for more advanced screening. Ben refused, thanked the paramedic and turned to the chief, who didn’t wait even a second before asking for a report.

  “What happened?” Calvin asked once the EMT had gone.

  “Chasey.” Been looked around. “We were ambushed.”

  Calvin slowly shook his head, confirming the grim news Ben expected.

  “There’s been no sign of her since she left you and the trucker outside Holly House,” Calvin said. “Unless you have information that’s more up to date?”

  “She texted me,” Ben admitted. “Asked for my help. She said her brother had reached out to her, also via text message, and that she thought she knew where he’d been taken. We were leaving to go after him. Heading out when two men appeared in the alley. They fired at least one gunshot. As I turned to shove her behind the dumpster, another got me from behind.”

  “So there were three men?”

  Ben nodded. “No bullet holes in me, so he must have slammed his gun into my head.”

  Ben could feel the knot, still throbbing from where the paramedic had poked at it. “They must have just left me here. I’m guessing someone found me?”

  Calvin nodded. “A busboy came out of the restaurant over there to toss some garbage in the dumpster. When he spotted you, he called 9-1-1. Once they found your ID, I got the call and came straight over.”

  Ben checked his watch and felt his stomach sink. He’d been out for over an hour. Who knew where those men had taken Chasey? “You don’t have any leads on where she might have gone?” he asked.

  “None at all, but it looks like someone else picked up on at least one clue that we missed, if men took her.”

  “Her uncle.”

  “You’re sure it was Dawson behind this second abduction in twelve hours?”

  “As sure as I can be.” His gut clenched. Some deputy marshal he was. He couldn’t even protect the girl he—what? Loved.

  The chief grabbed his arm as if to steady him, and urged him out of the alley. “Let’s get back to the offices before too many others start asking questions.”

  “The task force doesn’t know you found me?”

  Chief Calvin shook his head with a grimace. This man had Ben’s back. Always.

  Because of that, Ben would press his case. “Chief, I’m going after Chasey. I know where they’re taking her. We were going together to get Brighton. She asked for my help and I promised to help her. I’ll go it alone if I have to. With or without your help. But I would prefer your help.”

  Calvin sighed. “I thought you might say that.” He and Ben stepped out of the alley. “My rental car’s across the parking lot.”

  “Thank you.” Ben turned and shook his boss’s hand. “For always having my back. I couldn’t have done any of it without your help.”

  “You’re welcome. As US marshal WITSEC inspectors, we couldn’t work very well and get our jobs done if we didn’t have each other’s backs.” Calvin dipped his chin, his dark gaze boring into Ben. “Now...what do you need from me?”

  Ah. Good. The man understood. “Thanks for offering to assist. I need a flight to the Caribbean tonight.”

  Calvin’s eyes widened. “The Caribbean?”

  “Yes. I have longitude and latitude coordinates of where Chasey believes Brighton has been taken. It’s likely the same place those men are taking her, too. I know the others want to know where she is and will want Dawson back, but I don’t think we should call in the cavalry until I have verified that they are there.”

  “Do you think she had good intel?”

  “She seemed absolutely certain. It’s a place she went with her mother long ago—so it makes sense. She said there’s a fortified old plantation there.”

  “I see.” Calvin gestured toward his vehicle as he disengaged the locks.

  They got in and Calvin started the car along with cranking up the heat.

  “It’s a sticky situation here. I’m in a hard place, Ben. There’s an alphabet soup of agencies that will want to know you’ve been in contact, and everything your witness has told you. And considering the shape you’re in with that concussion, they might have a point when they say that someone else could be the right man for this job.”

  Ben rubbed his aching head. “I hear what you’re saying, but I’m the only person to do this. I’m the only one she trusts. You tell the FBI if they want Dawson, then they are going to have to wait their turn.”

  Calvin grinned. “I’m glad you’re o
n my team, Bradley.”

  “Can you buy me some time or not?” Ben asked. “That’s all I’m asking. Let me get a few hours ahead before we alert everyone about the island’s location.”

  “We need to be close enough to be able to send the cavalry in when you need more help. I’ll get you on that flight out tonight using USMS resources. In the meantime, I’ll inform them we believe Dawson is somewhere in the Caribbean. That will get the forces moving in that direction so they can be on standby.”

  Ben nodded and ignored the pain in his head. A few ibuprofens would get him through. He hoped.

  “One more thing, Ben. Something you might not have considered that could be a problem for you.”

  “Oh yeah?” He wasn’t a bit surprised there was more.

  “A hurricane is bearing down on the Caribbean even as we speak.”

  * * *

  The rolling motion, followed by the sudden jerk to the right, broke through the thick fog of Chasey’s drugged state and brought her fully awake. Wariness, resulting from years of learning to be cautious, prevented her from jerking wide awake, from crying out or gasping for breath...or even opening her eyes.

  Breathe in slowly. Out slowly. Even and steady.

  Do not move.

  Chasey felt the memories flood her mind even as she tried to get her bearings—with her eyes closed. By the motion, the movement—the turbulence—she knew she was on a jet. And with that, she knew where she was being taken.

  Chasey was being transported to Isla de la Alegría.

  Voices spoke in low tones from the seating closer to the cockpit. Maybe if she cracked her lids a bit, she could look around and know more. But she decided she would wait and listen and gather as much intelligence as she could while they thought she was asleep.

  One man spoke a Slavic-sounding language. She feared that her uncle was waiting to transport them all to one of several countries where he had offices—the Ukraine, Finland or Lithuania. When he’d first hired her on as his assistant, she’d thought that working for her uncle would require her to learn one or all of the languages from the countries in which he was involved, but he had actually forbidden it. She had no doubt that was to keep her less knowledgeable of his operations. But that, of course, hadn’t been enough to keep her from gathering evidence against him and turning him over to the authorities. Knowing her uncle’s ways, his methods of retaliation when he felt betrayed, she knew to expect certain death.

 

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