She’d had a feeling he was more than just a risk-taking maverick who owned a sailing school. Now his unique home with its high-tech equipment confirmed her suspicions. It also made it easier to reveal who she was and why she was in the islands.
“Okay, Scott,” she began, squaring her shoulders. “You deserve to know, and it’s time. The murdered man was Special Agent Manny Delgado. He was my partner. We were embedded in an international drug-running organization based in Los Angeles. It’s operated by a drug kingpin named Sonny Conchello. You may have heard the name.”
“Sure, he’s legendary,” Scott replied, “and I knew there was more to you. Go on.”
She paused.
He’d indicated no surprise, or even concern, which made her believe he felt both. His ability to control his response suggested a high level of military training, possibly even espionage. Given the sophisticated high-tech house, and his nocturnal activities, nothing would surprise her.
“Elizabeth?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about everything,” she said solemnly. “Dan Miller is an LAPD detective, but he’s on Conchello’s payroll. The first week I was at the mansion, Dan flashed his badge and pinned me against a wall to—as he put it—pat me down. I fought him off, surprisingly with no problem, but from that moment on, he’d scowl at me and make threatening comments. Please don’t think I’m paranoid when I say this, but the night of the raid I’m sure he was out to kill me. When he didn’t succeed, I suppose planting the evidence to get me arrested for Manny’s death was the next best thing.”
Pushing back from the desk, Scott moved slowly toward her. His poker face was gone, and she could see the anger in his eyes.
“At some point I’d like to hear how you ended up with such a dangerous assignment, but not now,” he murmured, bringing her into his arms.
“No, not now,” she agreed, sinking against him. “Now we need to talk about where I go from here.”
“Correction, where we go from here, you’re not in this by yourself.”
A swell of emotion rose up from deep inside her soul.
Scott was not only giving her shelter, he was offering a ray of hope.
Manny had been shot trying to save her from a spray of bullets, and when she’d fled the Conchello mansion, she’d been convinced she’d be dead within hours. But in Scott’s engulfing hug, and the security of the fortified house, she felt safe for the first time in months.
“You were right, miracles do happen,” she managed, slowly pulling back. “I shouldn’t be here. All the odds were against me.”
* * *
Scott had been drawn to Elizabeth from the moment he’d laid eyes on her when she’d first chartered his boat. The chemistry between them had been white hot, and that hadn’t changed. But after hearing her story, his respect and admiration for her spiked off the charts.
“Come back and sit down,” he said, keeping his arm around her as they returned to the desk. “Tell me about the raid. How did you get out?”
“I’m a platform diver. Manny and I were in Conchello’s office and it has a terrace overlooking the pool.”
“Holy crap.”
“Conchello’s men had set up an ambush for the agents, and the gunfire had started. We were trapped up there. Manny was trying to shove me out the French doors when the bullets started coming in. He… he…”
“He was hit?”
“Yeah, from bullets coming through the door, and I could hear Dan screaming, though I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Scott, I was terrified, and that’s when Manny got hit a second time. His last words were, dive, Lizzy, get out while you can, then he collapsed. There were two more shots, and that’s when I dashed out to the patio and ripped off my dress,” she continued, forcing back the tears. “I climbed on top of the rail and dove off, but when I surfaced all I could feel was overwhelming guilt for leaving him.”
“Dying beside Manny would have achieved nothing, you know that.”
“Logically, but abandoning him felt wrong. We’d been through so much. We weren’t lovers,” she added quickly. “It wasn’t like that.”
“You don’t need to explain. How did you get away?”
“We’d found this rickety old gate behind some bushes at the side of the house. Jim, our handler, left a motorcycle there in case we needed to escape.”
“Thank God,” Scott muttered. “The money? Was that in the office?”
“No, that was just weird. Manny discovered the sports bag in the gym the day before. We couldn’t believe it. He wrapped the wads of cash in cling film to preserve any fingerprints and DNA, then stuffed them in the bike’s saddlebags. We just didn’t have a chance to contact Jim and let him know before the raid.”
“Wait. You said the sports bag. What did you mean by that?”
“Oh, right, sorry. Everyone knew Conchello kept a shitload of cash in a sports bag locked in his safe. He boasted about it, but I don’t know how it ended up in the gym, or why there was only a small amount of money in it. At the time we assumed someone had taken it down there and was transferring the cash into another bag, but was interrupted and had to bolt.”
“I don’t think so,” Scott said thoughtfully. “Keep going.”
“I got to the bike no problem, but I was drenched, and bear in mind, all I was wearing was my underwear. We had a safehouse about fifteen minutes from the mansion. Obviously I made it.”
“That’s a helluva story, Elizabeth. You’re a born survivor.”
“So far, but with Dan down here on my trail…” she murmured, her voice trailing off as she thought about the man who had caused her so much heartache.
“You’ve got me now, remember?” Scott said reassuringly. “Looking back, do you have any theories about how the sports bag ended up unattended in the gym like that?”
“It must have been some kind of setup.”
“I agree, probably placed there for someone specific. Your partner was in the wrong place at the wrong time, depending on how you look at it.”
“It couldn’t have been left for him or me. We hardly ever went down there, but why am I still alive? Why didn’t the tracker lead Dan directly to me from the beginning? Come to think of it, why didn’t anyone show up at the safehouse near the mansion?”
Scott paused. “Elizabeth, how many times have you set a trap, then surveilled the perps when they took the bait?”
“All the time.”
“I suspect that’s what Conchello did, and is doing. For reasons I still haven’t figured out, he’s steering Dan toward you, but not giving him your exact whereabouts.”
“It’s so unnerving,” she said, shaking her head. “At least I’ll be able to breathe for a few days. Okay, Scott, I’ve told you who I am, now it’s your turn. What’s with this house? Come on, out with it.”
“I’m not quite finished. What prompted your visit here six months ago?”
“Sorry, I haven’t told you. Conchello sent me to scout out secluded coves and beaches. He wanted to use this area for trafficking, which he’s doing, by the way.”
“And why did you choose to come back here? Besides seeing me, of course,” he added with the hint of a grin.
“Well, there are several reasons. I was hoping to disappear on your catamaran. It had my tracker on the hull, and Jim would know where I was. I had my phone too, but you pulled out the sim card. Now both the tracker is gone and my phone is offline. He has no idea where I am. I’m sure he’s worried sick.”
“You can email him from here. What else?”
“I knew Conchello had set up a base on one of those islands you showed me, and I’m pretty sure he’s laundering money down here. I had this crazy idea I might be able to nab the bastard. I sure as hell didn’t expect Dan to show up. I’d taken that beach house because you were off sailing and I had to wait until you got back. As soon as you did, I hightailed it to the dock.”
“That all makes sense,” he muttered. “One last question. Why did your boss want you to bring the
money?”
“I was going to use it to suss out Conchello’s laundering activities, though it was a long shot. Is that it?”
“That’s it.”
“Great, now tell me about you.”
“I was in the Navy, played around in special ops for a while, and now I’m working against organized crime.”
“And this place?”
“It’s a safehouse.”
“Short and sweet, huh,” she quipped. “That’s all you’re going to tell me? Not which agency you’re with?”
“Not at the moment, but there is something I want to mention about Dan Miller. Why do you think I put that wad of money with the tracker in his room?”
“Uh, to stop whoever is tracking it from finding me, and I assume that would be Conchello.”
“That’s only part of it,” he said, lowering his voice. “Elizabeth, when the tracker leads to Dan’s hotel room, Conchello will assume the money’s there. When Dan doesn’t report finding it, what do you think will happen?”
Elizabeth frowned, then rolled her eyes. “Ooh, that won’t be pretty. That won’t be pretty at all.”
* * *
The mood in the private jet was somber.
Sonny Conchello didn’t hide his emotions.
If he was happy, everyone was happy.
If he was angry, conversations remained muted.
No one dared smile.
Born in the rough, rundown streets of East Los Angeles, Sonny had bare-knuckled his way through life.
Now he was rich.
Filthy rich.
Determined not to become another El Chapo or Pablo Escobar, his early profits he’d invested in car washes. They were cash machines.
Then pinball and gaming clubs. More cash machines.
All the while he’d manipulated his way into celebrityville.
Actors, musicians, politicians, he didn’t discriminate.
He’d arrive at their huge homes with magic dust and a black pharmacy bag.
They treated him like a king.
He’d run into Beth at party after party.
A sparkling ray of sunshine.
He’d barely noticed her boyfriend.
Manny was always there, subdued, polite, unassuming.
Sonny had been attending an Oscar event when she’d taken him aside and asked if she could be one of his dealers.
She’d pleadingly explained she was a struggling actress, and Manny, a musician, struggled even harder.
He didn’t hesitate.
Though she’d been an anomaly in his male-dominated world, she had quickly become an admired fixture in his mansion.
She’d hosted his parties, and charmed important visitors.
Her quiet boyfriend spent his life hanging out with bands and in clubs.
He proved to be an excellent source of income.
But Dan Miller, a lowlife, but necessary LAPD cop, despised her.
She’d rejected the lanky detective.
Sonny wasn’t surprised.
With his ugly mustache, Dan was not an attractive man.
Tall and skinny, his clothes hung off him, and he did freakish things with his body.
The bizarre talent had earned him the nickname Twister.
If that wasn’t enough, he pinned back his long, kinky hair with bobby pins.
Sonny had dismissed Dan’s complaints as personal and paranoid.
Until the detective had uncovered her real name.
Elizabeth McKay.
Beth Cameron had been a mirage.
Sonny had told himself she’d changed her name for the movies.
It was common among actors.
But his doubts simmered.
Now her boyfriend was dead, and Sonny still didn’t know diddly squat.
Worse, Dan Miller had changed.
He’d always been a sour sonofabitch, but he’d become impossible to be around.
No longer trusting him, and still not sure what to do about his sparkling ray of sunshine, Sonny had placed a sports bag in the gym around the time Dan would work out. Sitting in his office and watching, Sonny had seen a couple of his soldiers notice the bag, but they’d kept walking.
Then Manny had appeared.
He’d unzipped it, closed it back up, and taken it with him.
Sonny had paced and fumed.
Though Beth’s boyfriend was a dead man, the thought of putting a bullet through her head had sent a frown across his forehead.
But it had to be done.
By him.
Quietly.
Just the two of them.
That’s when he’d received the warning call about the raid that night.
He’d changed his mind.
She and her boyfriend would die during the chaos.
Dan Miller could pull the trigger.
But Dan had messed up.
Manny had died, but not Elizabeth.
Had Dan let her slip away unscathed?
Sonny knew all too well love was akin to hate.
He didn’t know what to think, but he’d continued to track the money.
Now she was in the islands.
Though he’d sent Dan after her, he was keeping her exact whereabouts to himself.
A trap was still baited, but differently.
He’d told Dan about the theft of the money, but specified rolls of cash.
He’d said nothing about the wads.
When Dan found her, he’d find both.
Would he kill her, take the wads, and hand in the rolls?
Sonny would soon have his answer.
He’d always enjoyed spending time in the islands.
But this trip his head hurt and his heart was heavy.
And there was a whole lot more to it than just a few days of sunshine and business.
Chapter 10
As they continued to study Dan Miller’s empty hotel room, Elizabeth placed her elbow on the desk, rested her chin in her hand, and looked across at Scott. He was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed.
“Is this what we’ll be doing for the rest of the day?” she asked. “Staring at this room and waiting for something to happen?”
He laughed out loud.
“What did I say?”
“There are other eyes watching. If anything interesting pops up I’ll get a call.”
“I should have realized,” she muttered, thinking her question had made her sound like a rookie. “I’d like to go over there myself and wait for him. Nothing would make me happier than to blow his fucking brains out.”
“You don’t mean that,” Scott said, his voice suddenly solemn.
“A part of me does. I need justice.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“I still can’t think about it without wanting to cry,” she said, swallowing back the hot lump in her throat. “It’s just so hard to get past.”
“You haven’t had a chance. You’ve been weaving and dodging since it happened.”
“I had a couple of days to myself in that beach house before Dan showed up, but it wasn’t enough.”
“You need a mental break,” Scott said, leaning forward and taking her hands, “and I know just how to make that happen.”
His touch made her skin tingle, and his dominant skill took her breath away. The thought of being back under his captivating control brought the butterflies in her stomach fluttering back to life.
“I’m sure you do,” she murmured, “and I can’t wait to find out how.”
“It might not be what you’re expecting.”
“I like surprises, well, most of them.”
“Good to know, but I still need to call Emily back. While I’m doing that, you can email your guy, but don’t reveal the location of this place.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to. I have no idea where we are. I don’t even know how long it took to get here. I was asleep.”
Suddenly reaching into her hair, he pulled her toward him and pressed his lips on hers.
Longing ri
ppled through her body.
She wanted to be naked.
In his arms.
His mouth moving across her skin.
Kissing and licking every inch…
“I’m glad you came back to me, Elizabeth,” he said softly, breaking away as abruptly as he’d kissed her.
Watching him stand up and walk across the room, she had to force herself to pull her eyes away.
It was then she realized just how much she cared.
Too much.
Way, way too much.
* * *
The kiss still lingering on his lips and his cock stirring, Scott stepped into the hall, took a moment to focus his thoughts, then lifted his phone from his pocket and placed the call. The widow of a career military man, Emily was Jack’s mother. Jack had been in Scott’s SEAL team, and Emily had spent a week with the two of them in the islands after her husband had passed away.
She’d loved being there and near her son.
The timing could not have been more perfect.
Jack was establishing the Shady Shack, Scott had launched the sailing school, and the safehouse had just been completed. When Emily was asked if she’d be their eyes and ears on the small island and help take care of the home, she’d leapt at the offer.
“Hello, Emily,” Scott said as she answered. “How are you?”
“Very well, and I’m glad you got my note. I thought about calling, but I know how busy you and Jack are, and I’m always worried about interrupting something.”
“You can always call. If I can’t answer, I’ll call you right back.”
“But, Scott, I know what it’s like to have a phone ring at a bad time.”
He grinned. “I’m sure you do. What’s up?”
“Well, the thing is, I’ve noticed speedboats showing up and pulling into the beach. Normally I wouldn’t pay much attention, but I’ve seen them every time I’ve been at the house. It struck me as a bit strange.”
“The same boats every time?”
“Yes, that’s another reason I think it’s unusual. The same three boats. I did manage to get their names, and the registration number of one of them.”
“Good work.”
“That telescope is addictive,” she remarked. “I couldn’t stop watching.”
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