Dangerous Deceptions: A Christian Romantic Suspense Boxed Set Collection

by Lisa Harris

  He rubbed his forehead, that familiar ache he’d managed to ignore clamoring for attention again, pinging through his head.

  Not now.

  “Not now!” He ground out the words.

  Nicole’s appeared near his shoulder again. “Reg, what’s going on. You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She handed over a prescription bottle.

  “What’s this?” Jillian asked.

  “You can ask questions after you’ve answered mine.” Reg squeezed the bottle but he wouldn’t take them. He had avoided that so far. Still, Nicole had been thoughtful to stow them in her purse.

  “I’ll explain everything after we land. Believe me, you want me focused on flying.”

  “Where are you taking us?” he asked.

  Jillian gripped the yoke with a measure of uncertainty. His gut roiled.

  “Jillian.” Nicole leaned forward. “Wherever you think to take us, your friends will figure that out, won’t they? I know where we can go and nobody will know.”

  Reg gripped the seat as turbulence hit the plane. Was Jillian practiced at flying here in the Puget Sound area? That would make sense, but still, he didn’t trust this situation.

  The engine sputtered.

  “What’s that?” Nicole’s panicked tone was loud and clear.

  “Um. . . I think the tank is empty.”

  “What? You think the tank is empty?” Nicole asked. “You’re out of gas?”

  She tapped the gauge. “The warning light is flashing, but the tank shouldn’t be empty. I don’t understand.”

  Reg glanced out the window. “I do. A bullet emptied the tank.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “There are two.”

  “You have parachutes on board, don’t you?” Nicole asked.

  Reg glanced over his shoulder to see her buckling in.

  “Yep. Probably.” Jillian blew out a breath. “Okay. I switched the tanks. We’re good.” Maybe Jillian thought so, but he wouldn’t be relieved until they had safely landed.

  “Do you really have your license yet?” Nicole asked.

  Reg angled his head to peer at Jillian.

  “I was going to take my test next week.”

  Reg leaned his head back again. Well, this was just great. But he had to keep Jillian encouraged. “You’re doing a great job. I’m sure you would have your pilot’s license if you had taken the test this week. Today even. Now, focus on what you’re doing and where you’re going.”

  “Harriet is on a cruise through the Inside Passage,” Nicole said. “I looked at the itinerary. The first stop is Ketchikan, Alaska. If we could land there, we could wait for them and somehow get her back.”

  Reg squeezed his eyes shut. “Good idea, but I have to figure out the paintings, if it comes to that. I now have nineteen hours.”

  “Did he tell you where he expected you to deliver them?” Nicole asked. “Or are you simply to confirm to him that you’ve acquired them?”

  “I don’t have those details. I don’t know where they are, and, even if I did, I doubt I can just walk in and take them. I don’t know why he would think I could.” What game was Rhodes playing?

  Nicole felt a headache coming on too. She leaned back and tried to calm her mind, but the small plane’s response to the turbulence made it difficult. She closed her eyes and said, “Just get us to Ketchikan, Jillian.”

  No one responded. Like her, Reg and Jillian must be thinking their predicament through. She didn’t say more and let the plane lull her as she watched out the window, but too many thoughts collided in her brain. She closed her eyes and prayed, and then . . . Nicole woke up and rubbed her eyes. How long had she slept? She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “So any ideas yet on what we’re going to do about the paintings?”

  A few seconds of silence ticked by before Jillian responded. “This guy has taken two of the paintings and now wants all four. Is that it? He can’t believe you could actually acquire the Ashton Darrow paintings. They’re at the California Museum of Fine Arts, by the way.”

  “And you know that how?” Reg asked.

  “I’m working in the art world, hello.”

  Reg scratched his jaw. “Maybe he doesn’t know they’re at the museum.”

  “She has a good point, Reg. Why would he think you could get them?” Her breathing hitched up. “You’re not considering that possibility, are you?”

  “No. I’m not going to commit a crime, at least intentionally.”

  Nicole thought back to the private club they’d just fled. Reg had shot a man and they had fled the scene, so technically, he was already in some trouble, but those were extenuating circumstances.

  “What I need is help from the FBI,” he said. “They need to be involved in negotiating Grandmother’s release. Except . . . I . . . ”

  “Why haven’t you already contacted them then?” Jillian asked.

  “I have . . . about everything else. I’m supposed to meet with them tomorrow.”

  “He doesn’t know who to trust,” Nicole replied for him.

  “Right. I’m still figuring things out.”

  “The FBI can help you figure it out then,” Jillian said. “But I think I’m missing something. What haven’t you told me?”

  Nicole sighed. She’d let Reg be the one to tell her sister about the financials he’d procured on the USB drive and handed over to his ASAC who now claimed he hadn’t received the information. As Reg had said, his boss had lied to him. Someone had taken the money out of Keaton’s accounts—if not the FBI, then who?

  When Reg didn’t respond, Jillian continued, “Don’t trust me? Fine. Regardless, your twenty-four hours is ticking down.” Jillian shifted the yoke and adjusted knobs on the dash. “You’re not going to get your hands on those paintings. Not in time, if you ever could. You already know this.”

  “And you’re not helping,” Reg said.

  “This guy who contacted you.” Jillian apparently wasn’t finished making her point. “He knows you aren’t going to make it in time. He gave you an impossible task. Then again . . . I sense a mastermind at work here.”

  “What?” Reg snapped his gaze to her. “What are you talking about?”

  “I can’t explain it right now. Let’s see how it all plays out.”

  “Easy for you to say. Your Grandmother hasn’t been abducted. You aren’t expected to deliver high-value items in less than adequate time with factors blocking your call to the feds.”

  God, please, help him. Help us all figure this out and get Harriet back safely.

  She could add a few more things to that prayer—like helping her take down the collector who killed her father years ago, and if Reg’s superior was dirty, he needed to be caught too. Bringing people to justice had been a rewarding part of her job as a special agent, and admittedly she missed that.

  Jillian snorted. “I’ll be interested to hear about the factors when you’re ready to share.”

  Nicole shook her head. “We’d love to hear more about Chameleon and your involvement—engagement—to him, working undercover. And you haven’t shared the agency you work for yet.”

  “All in good time, sister. Right now, getting Harriet back is our priority. And maybe we can take a bad guy or two down at the same time. Hold on, I need to focus on getting us to the airstrip.”

  Wait a minute. “We can’t be at the island yet, can we?” Then it hit Nicole. . . They’d been heading east, not north.

  “We’re not.” she said. “We have to get our hands on those paintings.”

  Nicole shifted uncomfortably. “Wait. You’re talking about forgeries, aren’t you?”

  A few moments ticked by. Had Jillian even heard her?

  Finally, she said, “It’s part of my toolbox for taking Chameleon down.”

  Nicole stared at her sister. She could see a bit of her profile, but mostly the back of her blond, blue and purple head. Who was the woman who had learned how to fly? Who
had learned how to . . . “Let me guess. You’re the artist.”

  Jillian scoffed. “Please. Do you have any idea the expertise required to forge a masterpiece? For one, you have to use the materials that will pass muster with experts, or rather fool them. Only materials available in the time period of the painting being forged. I’m merely being . . . mentored.”

  “I’m assuming you are working for the feds in order to minimize your sentence,” Reg said. “How will what happened today affect you? Will you go back to prison?”

  “Hold on. . .” She gripped the yoke tighter. The plane shook violently.

  Nicole silently prayed for a safe landing. When the plane dipped beneath the low-hanging cloud, a mountain loomed in their vision.

  “Look out!” Reg and Nicole yelled simultaneously.

  Jillian pulled on the yoke and veered to the right so the plane lifted and swerved at the same time.

  Nicole’s heart jumped to her throat. She pressed her hands over her eyes and stifled a scream.

  Jillian chuckled. “Sorry about that. I’d never make a good bush pilot.”

  “Where are we?” Nicole looked at the terrain below and took in the evergreens, rolling foothills, snow-tipped mountains.

  Reg shifted in his seat to stare out the side window. “We’re in the Rockies.”

  “Yes. Montana,” Jillian said.

  “Before you tell us why Montana, please answer Reg’s question. Will you end up back in prison?” Her sister could have thrown away the key by stepping in to rescue Nicole.

  “You mean if we survive this? No, I was never a convict. I’d been working for them beforehand. They approached me. I had a connection with Chameleon. I’ve been working so long to get to this place, and you . . . It’s all messed up now.” Jillian focused in on what she was doing as the plane neared an airstrip.

  They? The agency Jillian had never disclosed. Nicole soaked that in. Could she believe her sister? Was she making it all up? Why hadn’t Jillian shared this with Nicole? But she knew why—Nicole would have tried to talk Jillian out of working in such a volatile, dangerous situation. Or there could be more to it. She shouldn’t try to figure it out and just wait for Jillian to explain.

  She sighed, unsure how to respond to this new information.

  Her pilot sister landed the plane and taxied to a small hangar—again at a small lonely airstrip.

  When the plane powered down, Jillian hopped out, then Reg and Nicole followed.

  Jillian stared at her cell as if reading a text. “We have to make this quick. You wait here while I go to the house. I’ll tell Enrique I’ve been asked to retrieve the paintings. I’ll return here with them, and then we can head to the island. You’ll contact your person to say you have them, or wait until he calls. Whatever you like. We’ll get your grandmother.”

  Reg glanced at Nicole.

  She knew that look in his eyes. This felt too easy.

  “Wait, Jillian,” she said. “We should go with you.”

  “I get it. You don’t trust me. Listen, it isn’t uncommon for me to retrieve paintings or other items. My only concern is that someone could have contacted Enrique and told him to detain me.” She brandished her Taser. “Don’t worry, this is not my first rodeo. Now, you two need to trust me.” Jillian stepped forward and pinned Nicole with a piercing gaze. “Will you trust me, Nicole?”

  Honestly, Nicole wasn’t sure, but Jillian hadn’t given them any choices. Then again, she had given them the choice of life. They had escaped The Blue Door. Jillian had blown her cover, if her story was true. “I trust you, Jillian.”

  I have to trust you, Jillian. And . . . she wanted to.

  She sensed Reg’s uneasiness, but he didn’t try to stop Jillian.

  Would Jillian see the uncertainty in Nicole’s eyes? Jillian nodded as if she took Nicole at face value, whipped around, and rushed to a white van sitting outside.

  “Wait,” Reg called. “How long should we wait before we need to worry?”

  Jillian climbed into the van and shouted from the window. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes. If it takes me longer, you should run.”

  Reg lifted a hand and rushed toward her, but she drove off.

  Nicole looked around at the emptiness for miles and miles. “Run where?”

  Reg turned and strode toward her, stopping only inches away. He gripped her arms. “I’m sorry, Nicole. I shouldn’t have let it go this far. We’re at a distinct disadvantage, and that’s all on me.”

  Dropping her arms, he paced.

  “You don’t trust, Jillian,” Nicole said.

  He glanced her way. Held her gaze. “We’re in this mess, thanks to your informant. So I’m inclined to distrust almost everyone at the moment.”

  “Even me?”

  A half grin hitched in his cheek, and a few heartbeats passed. “You, I trust.”

  That look in his eyes, the sincerity in his tone mixed with not a little charm, created a knot in her throat and quickened the pace of her heart.

  When his gaze took all of her in, her insides warmed, and she suddenly remembered what she’d been wearing and she glanced down.

  He stepped closer and took her hand, kissing it as he had on the sidewalk when they approached The Blue Door. “You look beautiful in the dress, but you’re a distraction to me under any circumstance. I trust you, Nicole. You and Jillian might be twins, but you are two very different women.”

  “She likes fast cars. Who knew? What about you, Reg? You had a motorcycle wreck. Do you like driving fast too?” Oh, now, she was letting unbidden jealousy—fear that he would be attracted to Jillian—get to her. After all, Jillian was Nicole’s twin, and why wouldn’t Reg be attracted to her?

  He pulled her to him and kissed her. Nicole responded, needing this from him as much as he seemed to need it from her. In his kiss, she sensed desperation. Urgency. Even fear.

  When he released her, he kept his face near hers, he said. “Does that answer your question.”

  He’d answered the question she hadn’t voiced. Did he prefer her over Jillian?

  Why had she let him see how much he’d already gotten under her skin?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Reg released Nicole as she took a step back. He tore his gaze from those stunning blue-gray eyes that he’d gotten lost in when he’d been a fool to fall in love with her to begin with.

  That was then.

  This was now, and he shouldn’t have kissed her.

  Again.

  And now of all moments. This definitely wasn’t the time.

  But that uncertain look, the question in her eyes, had been the catalyst. He could see easily enough she wanted to know if Jillian had caught his attention. He’d had to wipe those thoughts from Nicole’s mind. He had no interest in Jillian. In fact, Nicole had filled his thoughts since he’d spotted her following him early yesterday. Being with her scrambled his brain even more than it already was.

  Rubbing his forehead, he was getting accustomed to pushing beyond the headache. He needed to get better at ignoring the chaotic emotions. Grandmother was counting on him. He feared for her and for Nicole. The burden had fallen to him at a time when he was supposed to be resting and letting his brain heal.

  Not kissing Nicole.

  Why had he told her that he trusted her? Sure he trusted her during this predicament. Maybe he even trusted her with his life, but that was as far as it went.

  Funny to think he would trust her with his life but not his heart.

  He inhaled deeply then released a slow breath to clear his head. “Grandmother’s in trouble. We need to be thinking about all the possible worst-case scenarios.” The what-ifs. The would-haves. Should-haves. Or could haves . . . with Nicole. No, not with Nicole.

  He groaned. “I can’t believe we sent Grandmother on that cruise to keep her safe. We sent her right into the danger zone.”

  So far nothing had gone as planned. Especially not their visit to The Blue Door.

  As for Jillian’s plan—he’
d watched her waltz over to a big white van sitting next to the hangar as if someone expected her to arrive and left the van for her. He hadn’t stopped her or even insisted they go to this house where the forged paintings were supposedly being kept.

  Key information, a clue, some connection that should be made had eluded him for hours.

  Reg got the distinct feeling he and Nicole were about to be blind-sided. He was flying in the dark with no backup. He couldn’t trust Tye, his ASAC. He would never in a million years advise someone to avoid calling the authorities in on a kidnapping or a request for a ransom. But he wasn’t taking his own advice or following protocol. This case involved too many suspicious anomalies—a tangled web which he needed to unravel, and he could do that much quicker on his own without interference.

  And he could do it with Nicole’s help.

  Nicole had marched to the back of the hangar. Arms crossed, she leaned against the wall.

  He headed her way. They were stranded at the moment. The old Reg would never have let them get to this point. If something went wrong for Jillian at the house, they could be in big trouble.

  “What do you make of all this?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer immediately and instead paced the hangar. “Can you fly Jillian’s plane in case . . . In case we get into trouble.”

  He shook his head. “Not a chance. Honestly, I don’t want to get back into that plane with your sister piloting either.”

  “She got us here, didn’t she?” Nicole grinned.

  He’d forgotten how much he loved that grin. “She never did tell us what agency she’s working with,” he said.

  “We’ll find out sooner or later.”

  “It’s the later that worries me.” He hoped Nicole would piece this together because he struggled at the moment, and feared that he would never get back to himself.

  “This started when someone stole Harriet’s painting. It was stolen during World War II, and by my great-grandfather.”

  “First, you don’t know that for certain. Second, that probably doesn’t have anything to do with what’s happening, so let’s not let that put us off track.”