In Dylan’s mind, the only thing that could stop Amir was a bullet between the eyes, but he didn’t mention it to Gabi. He hated to burst her bubble, but he knew her idea wouldn’t fly. Too many holes.
“Sweetheart, do you think any reputable paper would run a story on Amir? First off, where are your facts? Documentation of the allegations you would make? Everything he’s done has been through third parties, giving him plausible deniability. His phone call to me wasn’t recorded, so it’s hearsay, also inadmissible in a court. Every action he’s made, he’s covered his tracks. The slashed tires—nothing on CCTV cameras. The texts—no link to his phone. The break-in at your apartment—the cops have no leads on who did it.”
“There has to be something. Maybe if I do a one-on-one interview with Salem…”
“All you’ll do is draw a bigger bullseye on her back. If we are going to catch Amir, we have to be smarter than he is. Play his game, even though it means waiting for him to make the next move.”
Dylan could almost see the wheels spinning in her head. He didn’t blame her; he wanted this over with, too. Salem deserved to have a happy, healthy baby, delivered in a hospital surrounded by medical staff, getting flowers, and celebrating. Not hiding out in a rustic cabin with generator power and terrified half out of her mind.
“What is it going to take to get this monster to go away and leave Salem alone?”
Dylan knew Amir wouldn’t stop. He’d run into too many of them when he’d been serving. Men who thought they were more important, more worthy than others. Throw in money and power, especially when they had ties to their governments, and they were unstoppable. It was an unfortunate thought that the only way he might be stopped and even then, it was possible he’d walk away unscathed, is if he killed Salem—which Dylan wouldn’t let happen. Guarding Gabi meant protecting Salem, too, and he’d die before he let Amir get his hands on either woman.
“What about using me as bait? Tarik wants to get his hands on me, to lead him to Salem. We can set a trap.”
“No! You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to allow Amir within a hundred miles of you, Gabi!”
Gabi latched onto his hand. “Think about it for a second. We do everything by our rules. Draw him out into the open. Force him to make a mistake, one we can get him arrested for.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s called entrapment. He’d skate on any charges.” Dylan barely refrained for grabbing Gabi and shaking some sense into her. How could she even consider using herself as bait for a madman? Never gonna happen.
“There has to be a way. I’m not in hiding, but I might as well be. I’ve barely been into town since we’ve been here. The only place I go is to the diner or to Salem’s cabin. I can’t even imagine how she’s done this for months.”
“It won’t be for much longer. Amir’s bound to make a mistake, and then the State Department can deport him, and refuse to let him back into the country.”
“He won’t stop, Dylan. He’ll just hire some mercenaries to grab Salem and the baby the minute them come out of hiding. And she can’t stay locked away for the rest of her life. He wants to snatch her and the baby, take her back to his compound, where she’ll never see a moment’s freedom again. You’ve met her, gotten to know her. She’d wither away and die. I…we can’t let that happen.”
“We won’t. Rafe has his brother, Chance, looking into ways to keep Amir from having any contact with either Salem or the baby. Legal avenues. Give him the opportunity to figure out a loophole to keep Amir away.”
“Okay, we’ll wait. But not for long.”
Dylan pulled Gabi into his arms, his hands rubbing along her back, trying to soothe her. She stood ramrod stiff in his arms at first, tension radiating off her. After a few moments, she began to relax, and laid her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist.
“I’m going to head into Shiloh Springs, check in with Rafe. You want to come with me?”
Gabi shook her head. “I’m going to the cabin and stay with Salem for a while. I want to spend as much time with her as I can. Call me if anything changes.”
“I will. Be careful, sweetheart.”
“You too.”
Tarik Amir leaned back against the cool leather seat of the leased SUV. He’d landed at Houston Intercontinental Airport an hour earlier. Though he’d wanted to fly in his private jet, finding an airstrip close to this Shiloh Springs blip on the map would have drawn too much unwanted attention. Instead, he’d flown on a commercial airline, and instructed his people to have a car and driver ready when he landed.
Studying the file he’d been handed on arrival, he ran a finger over the photo of his prey, Gabi Boudreau. She’d changed little since the last time he’d seen her. Her hair was a little longer, and she was smiling. Unlike the frowns and screams she’d treated him to on their last face-to-face meeting. The she-devil threw roadblocks in his path at every turn, even thwarting his best hired help. Subtle threats hadn’t worked. But his last message had sent her scurrying from her careful hometown comforts, and hopefully straight to where she’d hidden his prize.
Another photo showed Gabi with a tall, well-built man. Dark hair, military bearing. Probably Dylan Roberts, the man he’d spoken with on the phone. The one who’d turned down his offer. Mr. Roberts would regret not helping Tarik.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed. “Jennifer, what’s happening?”
He heard her soft sigh through the phone. “Tell me again why I have to be in this godforsaken town? There is nothing to do here. No shops. No theatre. Although they do have some interesting…cowboys.”
“You won’t be there much longer, my dear. Did you do what I requested?”
“It has been impossible.”
Tarik tutted. “Nothing is impossible, my dear, if you want it bad enough.”
“I have tried, my brother, but Gabi Boudreau has not been back to town since the last time we spoke.”
Tarik pinched the bridge of his nose, counting to ten before answering. He couldn’t afford to alienate his sister. Not yet. He needed her to do the task he’d assigned her. “Could you not find out where she’s staying?”
“About that—apparently she has family here. They live in a big home in the country. Or what the locals call a…ranch.”
“And?”
“I couldn’t get close.”
“Jennifer—”
“But,” she interrupted, “I did the next best thing. I put the tracker on her boyfriend’s car.”
Boyfriend? She must mean Dylan Roberts.
His lips curved upward in a Cheshire-cat grin. “Excellent, my dear. Is it working?”
“Yes. Right now, he’s still at the Boudreau house, not in town. Of course, I can’t tell if Gabi is there with him.”
“It doesn’t matter. We know they are still in Shiloh Springs. I’m on my way. I should be there in a few hours. Where are you staying? I’ll meet you.”
“Ugh, I had to book a room at a bed and breakfast off Main Street. Can you believe it, Tarik? Me? Staying in some quaint, doily-filled, frou-frou B&B? You owe me for this, brother.”
His oh-so-sophisticated Parisian half-sister was most definitely not the bed and breakfast type. More the Ritz-Carlton, room service, and champagne type. Picturing her in a backwater house filled with the lowest Americana workers? He bit back a chuckle, knowing she’d make him pay for laughing at her.
“Your ordeal will soon be over.” He glanced at his Rolex, gauging how long before he’d be able to claim his prize. “I should be there in about three to three and a half hours, depending on this hellacious traffic. How do Americans live with this?”
“See you soon.”
Hanging up, he again studied the picture of Gabi Boudreau. When he’d first encountered Salem in Italy, she’d been sharing a room with Gabi. He’d been instantly drawn to the vivacious redheaded artist, writing Gabi off without a second glance. Looking at her picture now, he wondered if he’d been too hasty to overlook her
subtle, understated appeal. She’d proven more than a match for him in his pursuit of his child and its mother. Perhaps he should amend his plans, and add another person to his list of passengers going back to the United Arab Emirates.
He loved a good chase, but he loved coming out the victor even more. He’d have the traitorous witch who’d thought to steal away his heir, and he’d have her pretty friend, too.
18
Dylan parked down the street from the sheriff’s office. The street was lined with cars and he’d had to circle the block a couple times before finding a spot. He wondered what was going on. Oh, well, he’d probably find out once he got inside.
Opening the front door, the sound of multiple raised voices echoed down the hall, coming from the conference room. When he glanced at Dusty, who was manning the front, he just waved Dylan back, holding a phone to his ear.
A controlled chaos swept through the conference room, and he paused in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, and took note of the people inside. Rafe stood at the white board, jotting down notes. Dax Chambers, the Texas Ranger he’d met, was sitting just to the right of the chair Rafe usually used. Dylan was glad the Ranger had stuck around, because he’d had that itchy feeling all morning things were about to explode. Nothing concrete, but instinct had saved his hide on more than one occasion, and it was dinging like crazy. Dylan knew better than to ignore it.
A tall man with blond hair and startling blue eyes sat behind a briefcase on the tabletop, pulling out file folders. He gazed up once, met Dylan’s stare, and nodded. This man had the look of somebody who spent a lot of time either working outdoors or was familiar with a gym, because there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Wonder who he is?
A dark-haired man sat across from the blonde, looking official in a suit and tie, his bearing one of authority. It was like being in a room filled with testosterone-drive alpha males, though no one demanded more attention than anyone else.
“Dylan, glad you’re here. You know Dax. The other two are my brothers, Chance and Antonio. Chance is the lawyer I mentioned. Antonio works for the FBI.”
“Why are they here? Has something happened?” There it was again, the feeling things were about to hit the fan, and they weren’t prepared. But then, how can you ever be prepared for a monster like Tarik Amir? He was unpredictable, and from what they’d discovered so far, untouchable.
“My sources confirmed Amir caught a commercial flight from New York to Houston today.” Antonio shoved something across the broad table, and Dylan grabbed it. It was a picture of Amir, along with several suited men who were obviously bodyguards, boarding a plane. He barely refrained from smashing the photo into a ball, but it was close.
“So, he’s on his way to Texas. Do we know if he’s zeroed in on Shiloh Springs specifically, or is he chasing the false trail we laid?” He and Rafe and planted a few clues, with the help of Stefan Carlisle, leaving an internet trail, not obvious, but not too well-hidden Amir wouldn’t find it.
“If I were to guess, I’m thinking he’s following the cell phone ping. Probably has a good enough hacker on his payroll to figure out the general vicinity where the phone was answered. Rafe told us about Amir contacting you. If it was me, and I was trying to find somebody in a certain geographical location, I’d already have sent people to the location and do an on-the-ground search, asking around town. While Shiloh Springs might not be the number one tourist destination, we do get our fair share of people passing through. Shop owners wouldn’t think too much of people asking questions, looking for friends or relatives.”
Dylan agreed with Antonio, because it’s what he’d have done. He’d have called in some of his buddies, maybe Wolf and the Riverton SEALs, since they weren’t averse to helping out a fellow SEAL, especially with protecting their women from the bad guys. He assessed the other man, liking he didn’t pull any punches, and told him the truth.
“Which means if he’s heading to Shiloh Springs, we only have a few hours.” Rafe scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
A commotion at the front of the station was followed by a loud woman’s screech. Dylan stepped back into the hall, drawing up short when he spotted Dusty frog-marching a slender woman through the front door, his hand in a tight grip around her upper arm. The woman struggled to pull free, but Dusty’s grip was solid.
“Boss, got somebody you need to see.” Dusty’s voice carried over the woman’s screeching, and Dylan froze when he got a good look at the woman’s face.
“Rafe, get out here.”
“What?” Rafe pushed through the doorway and stopped. “Is that…”
“Jennifer Baptiste? Looks like it to me.”
Rafe marched toward the front. “Dusty, what happened?”
“Sally-Ann said she’d cover the phones while I ran out to grab coffee for y’all. Daisy’s was too crowded, because it’s ice cream day, and she’s making butter pecan and mint chocolate chip. So, I headed over to Le Bistro instead. Walked through the door and found her,” he pulled on Jennifer’s arm slightly, “asking about Gabi Boudreau.” Dusty rolled his eyes. “She resisted coming with me, but I persuaded her.”
“Ms. Baptiste?”
Jennifer straightened to her full height, a haughty expression marring her beautiful face. “I have done nothing wrong. I demand you release me immediately.”
Rafe smirked. “I’m afraid I can’t. I have a few questions.”
She tossed her head. “I have no answers. You have no right to hold me. I am a French citizen.”
Rafe nodded to Dusty. “Take her to Interview One and keep an eye on her. I’ll be right in.”
Jennifer wrenched her arm free from Dusty’s grip, and he motioned for her to precede him down the hallway. Dylan watched him usher her into the interrogation room, closing her inside, and positioning himself outside. He gave a brief nod to Dylan, a broad grin across his face.
“I’m gonna try and question her, before she lawyers up. You want to observe?” Rafe asked.
“Absolutely.”
“I’d like to watch.” Antonio joined the others. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to charge her with, but she might provide a few answers before she wises up to that fact.”
“Count me in, too.” Dax sauntered over. “Curious to see what she’s got to say.
“Me, too.” Chance added.
“Guess the whole gang wants in on this.” Rafe started down the hall, pointing to the room doorway before the one Dusty guarded. “Observe from there, but keep your mouths closed. These rooms aren’t soundproof.
“Gotcha.” Chance gave his brother a mocking salute, and the rest of them followed him into the observation room. Dylan stood behind the glass, studying Jennifer. She sat in the metal chair, still without a hair out of place, legs crossed, one high-heeled shod foot swinging back and forth. The cell phone in her hand, she typed out a message. He’d really like to know who was on the receiving end.
Rafe walked into the interrogation room and Jennifer laid her phone, face down, on the table in front of her. “Why have I been arrested?”
“You are not under arrest—yet—Ms. Baptiste. I’d simply like to ask you a few questions.”
She eyed him for several long moments, and Dylan was afraid she was going to balk. Finally, she nodded. “Of course. I like to cooperate with law enforcement, when I can. What would you like to know?”
“I’ll get right to the point, Ms. Baptiste. Tell me about your relationship with Tarik Amir.” Rafe crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his stance relaxed, but Dylan didn’t buy it. There was a coiled tension beneath his calm façade. Hopefully, he could charm Ms. Baptiste into revealing some new information. If not, well, Dylan didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. Especially if it meant keeping Gabi safe.
“Tarik? Why on earth would you be interested in him?”
“Simply answer the question. What is your relationship with Tarik Amir?”
“He’s my brother. Half-brother, if you
want the finer details. He didn’t know I existed until a few years ago. We are not close.”
“Have you talked with him recently?”
Jennifer paused, glancing toward the ceiling. “Hmm, let me think. When did I last talk with my brother? Better question, why is this any of your business?”
“Tarik Amir is a person of interest in an ongoing investigation, one we are cooperating with. Please answer the question.” His eyes darted to her phone lying on the table, and she quickly wrapped her hand around it.
“I spoke with my brother this morning. Who are you again?”
“Sheriff Rafe Boudreau. Did your brother mention where he was when you spoke with him?”
“Sheriff Boudreau, I am not a babysitter for my brother, nor do I keep tabs on him or his activities. If you have questions, why don’t you contact him directly? In fact, I’d be happy to give you his number.” Her French accent heightened with each word, and Dylan watched the pulse beating in her throat. Rafe’s questions were getting to her.
Getting a little rattled, sweetheart? Draw the noose a little tighter, and see where it gets you.
“I’d appreciate that, Ms. Baptiste.” Rafe pulled out a pocket-sized spiral notebook and laid it on the table along with a stubby pencil. She eyed it, a moue of distaste on her lips, before opening the cover and jotting down the number and passing it back.
“Do you know Salem Hudson?” Rafe asked the questions softly.
“I’ve heard the name, though I’ve never met her. I believe she used to be in a relationship with my brother, though I understood it to be over.”
Dylan ached to wipe the smirk off her lips, and balled his hands into fists at his side. This woman might appear all sweetness and light, but deep inside she was nasty to the core, a perfect foil for Amir. They deserved each other.
“What about the name Gabi Boudreau?”
Guarding Gabi - Kathy Ivan Page 12