by Rebecca Deel
“I can’t see the Maldonado group going after Hollingbrook personally or his business empire. If they’re targeting the cruise ship passengers, why put him out of business? It’s the perfect place to choose their next victims.”
Joe considered the alternatives. “If Ferguson was still alive, I’d look at him. He’d strike a deal with Maldonado to get the result he wanted. When Hollingbrook Cruise Lines was bankrupt, the route could be taken over by another cruise line.”
Sam frowned. “But Ferguson’s not alive. What other alternative do you see?”
“We need to look at the rest of Hollingbrook’s competitors, dig deeper into the backgrounds of the Hollingbrook executives. Maybe one of them has a hidden past that’s forcing them to work with Maldonado. The strongest scenario is one of the executives is behind all the incidents and formed a partnership with Maldonado to make extra money and take down the high and mighty Mike Hollingbrook.”
“I can’t disagree with your reasoning, but why focus on one of the executives?” Nico asked. “Wouldn’t they have the most to lose if Hollingbrook’s company goes down?”
“They know everything about the cruise business, the ships themselves, and have access to every part of the ship. Who would raise an eyebrow if an executive took a cruise to see how smoothly things ran? A coincidence if he or she were on a ship when a passenger disappeared during one of the port visits.”
Nico dragged a hand down his face. “And it would have been easy to stash the bombs aboard ship. Who’s going to question one of Hollingbrook’s executives? I didn’t think to ask Zane to check for overlaps between the foursome’s travel schedule and the disappearances. I’ll contact him before the feds invade the Pacific Star.”
“I don’t want the culprit to be Charlaine or Lance,” Mercy said. “Kayla deserves to have two parents who love her and are available when she needs them. What about Janine’s murder? Weren’t the executives on board the Pacific Star at the time?”
Joe shrugged. “Hired gun. If an executive is guilty, it’s possible he or she pointed the human trafficking group her direction. Janine fought back. Perhaps the shooter concluded she was too much trouble and killed her instead of holding her for ransom.”
She stared at him a moment. “You know, it’s a good thing I trust Nico and the rest of Shadow to keep me safe. Remarks like that make me realize how vulnerable I am.”
“We’re all vulnerable.” Sam laid her hand over Mercy’s. “Look at Joe’s fall down the stairs. The killer tried to injure Joe so he couldn’t function as part of our team.”
“We still have a two-pronged investigation,” Joe said. “The two prongs might be working together or Hollingbrook might have had the misfortune to make a personal enemy and catch the attention of a vicious human trafficking ring. What’s our next move, Nico?”
“Deal with the feds. They’re waiting for us in Puerto Vallarta. The passengers will be questioned again before they’re allowed to disembark. I wish I had another team at my disposal. We need eyes on the executives. If they aren’t involved, they’re targets.”
“Ask Winestock to keep the executives on board until we’re free to serve as their bodyguards. There’s been a credible threat. Let’s capitalize on that and keep them contained until we’ve been questioned.”
“Good plan. I’ll talk to Winestock.” Nico rose and held out his hand to his wife. “Joe, Sam, I’ll meet you in the security office. The interrogation room is the best place to answer questions from the feds. Trace and Ben will join us there.” With that, he escorted Mercy from the suite.
“Are you hungry?” Joe asked Sam. He was starving and needed to eat while he could. He wouldn’t have an opportunity for several hours once the agents were on board.
Sam’s stomach growled, her face flushing.
He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a definite yes. We have enough time for a quick meal.”
Forty-five minutes later, Joe escorted Sam to the security office. A low rumble of heated voices greeted them as they walked inside.
Caleb glanced up from his desk. He inclined his head to the interrogation room. “Go on in. They’re waiting for you. Good luck.”
From the furious look on Special Agent Travis Brock’s face, they might need Caleb’s good wishes.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Agent Brock.” Joe nodded at the blond-haired man glaring at him. He ignored the show of temper and seated Sam before dropping into the chair next to hers. “Can’t say I’m happy to see you again.”
Ben, Curt, and Trace grinned behind the FBI agent’s back. They leaned against the wall beside Nico, waiting to see how the interview played out. How could Brock sit with his back to the four operatives? Joe’s skin would be crawling if he didn’t know and trust the men.
A snort. “I’ll bet. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Gray.”
He remained silent, figuring the other man would fill him in. Brock didn’t disappoint him.
“You and your friends had to be heroes and dismantle deadly weapons when you should have called professionals to handle an unknown substance.”
“Is your memory faulty, Brock?” Nico snapped. “We couldn’t wait until you showed up. The timers were set to go off as we docked the ship. The safety of thousands of people was at stake. You couldn’t dismantle the devices and contain them in time. I trust Ben to handle a bomb more than I trust you and your team. You’re just ticked off because we took care of it without your permission. I’ll remind you again that I don’t work for you. I’m not answerable to you and neither is my team.”
“The FBI has the authority to deal with the situation and the fallout from it, not you. Local law enforcement won’t work with you.”
“Do I look like I care? My wife is on board this ship. I’m not risking her life to pander to your ego.”
The second FBI agent, a man in his mid-thirties with dark hair and eyes and skin tone that spoke of his Hispanic heritage, straightened from his position against the wall. “Lock up your ego, Brock,” he said, his voice mild. “We have a job to do and so does the Fortress team.”
The first agent turned and narrowed his eyes at his partner. “You know these people?”
“I know the man who created Fortress. Used to serve in the same military unit. Brent Maddox doesn’t hire inept operatives. He’s tough, disciplined, and knows his own limitations. He expects his people to exhibit the same qualities.” The second agent turned to Joe and held out his hand. “Rafe Torres. Brent was my commanding officer.”
Respect for the agent rose several notches. Rafe Torres was a Navy SEAL. He gripped the agent’s hand. “Joe Gray. This is Samantha Coleman.”
“I wish we’d met under better circumstances.” A quick smile flashed. “I have stories about your boss I’d love to share. Makes my day to embarrass him.”
“Next time you’re in Nashville, look us up. I’ll throw steaks and potatoes on the grill while you spill Brent’s secrets.”
“I’ll do that.”
Brock scowled. “If you’re finished setting up a date, can we get on with this? I’d like to find out if these mercenaries had anything to do with planting explosives on this ship.”
Winestock dragged a hand over his bald head. “You’re way off base, Brock. Don’t waste time chasing that crazy theory. Nico and his teammates are not your culprits.”
A sneer settled on Brock’s face. “You think you’re in a position to tell me how to do my job? Get a clue, Winestock. You’re just a rent-a-cop without any authority. I’m the one with a real badge.”
“Enough,” Torres snapped.
Brock’s face reddened. “Fine. I’ve got a few years on you in the Bureau, Torres, but if you think you can get answers better than an experienced agent, go for it. You take the lead on this one.”
Excellent. Joe saw satisfaction gleam in Torres’ eyes when the SEAL turned his direction. Suited Joe to have Brent’s battle buddy questioning them instead of his less-than-stellar sidekick.
�
�I imagine Nico’s unit has more tasks to complete.” Torres returned his attention to Joe. “We’ll start with you and move on to Samantha, then the rest of your teammates.”
“More teammates?” His co-worker looked stunned. “What teammates are you talking about? I thought there were only three of them.”
Winestock rolled his eyes.
Joe snorted as he rested his arm across Sam’s shoulders. Agent Brock was an idiot.
Torres stared at Brock. “There are six Fortress operatives in this room. How could you miss the other three?”
The first agent glanced around the room. He flinched when his gaze landed on Ben. Joe didn’t blame him. Ben’s eyes were ice cold and locked on Brock. His teammate had the death glare down pat.
Brock turned back to Torres. “I thought they were Winestock’s people.” He waved a hand at the SEAL. “Go on. Show me how good you are.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “We have a lot of ground to cover in a short amount of time. Joe, let’s start with you. Tell me what happened after the Pacific Star left San Diego.”
Joe recounted the events of the past few days, ending with his fall and the nerve-wracking minutes when he’d helped Ben dismantle a chemical weapon.
Torres remained quiet until he was finished, then took him through the events again, stopping him occasionally to ask clarifying questions. When he finished, he asked Joe another question. “Have you seen this type of chemical weapon before?”
“Seen them, yes. Handled them, no. I had basic training in EOD when I was in the Rangers. Everything else I’ve picked up from Fortress, Ben especially.”
“What’s your specialty on this team?”
“Spotter.”
Torres’ eyes gleamed with interest. “Huh. So was I. Let’s go back to the stairwell incident. Were you injured?”
Sam spoke up. “Joe has a concussion and stitches from his impact with the wall along with significant bruising.”
“What’s your role in the unit, Samantha?”
“Medic.”
“A nurse?” Brock scoffed. “Figures.”
Sam wrapped her hand around Joe’s fist, holding him in place and silently asking him to let her handle the obnoxious agent. “I’m a medic. I have more training than a nurse, Agent Brock. I’ve performed field surgery while under fire. Can you say the same?”
His face flamed and he lapsed into silence.
Torres’s hands were flat on the table, his gaze locked on Joe.
Waiting for him to make a move on his partner? He’d love to do just that but didn’t fancy spending time in prison for the momentary satisfaction of punching Brock’s face for insulting Sam. Joe had too many plans involving a certain beautiful medic. He didn’t intend to waste years of his life without his lady by his side. He used a hand signal to tell Torres he was in control.
The SEAL gave a chin lift in acknowledgment and turned his attention to Sam. “Tell me what happened since the ship left San Diego from your perspective.”
Sam complied, adding the medical details of Bianca’s death and Joe’s injuries.
Brock opened his mouth to spout something at Sam. From the expression on his face, his comment wouldn’t be complimentary.
Joe pointed at him. “Don’t say it. I won’t tolerate anyone insulting Sam. You already got one free pass. You won’t get another one.”
Torres looked at Joe, a silent warning in his eyes. “Did you recognize the man in the stairwell, Samantha?”
Sam shook her head. “I saw a glimpse of someone in black, then Joe pushed me toward the wall as he fell.”
“I saw the back of him as he ran up the stairs while I tumbled down them. Dark hair, six two, Caucasian, wearing all black. From the way he moved, this was the same man who killed Ferguson.”
“How do you know it’s the same man?” Brock’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I thought you said you didn’t recognize him.”
“Security footage caught Ferguson’s killer. He was careful not to show his face to the camera.” Joe glanced at Torres. “None of the cameras caught his face.”
“He knew where the security cameras were located.”
“Looks like it.”
“Inside job?”
Joe nodded.
“Have any suspects?”
“No proof.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Another competitor of Hollingbrook or someone connected to Hollingbrook Cruise Lines.”
“Why do you suspect a competitor?”
“Ferguson was the heir to Ferguson Cruises and would have been a direct competitor except the business went under and Mike Hollingbrook bought his father out. Tom wanted to save the business. His father sold it anyway. Not long after that, Kirk Ferguson committed suicide.”
Torres whistled. “Excellent motive for murder and sabotage. Cold, hard revenge.”
“Another competitor could try to take down Hollingbrook and his company for market share.”
Brock snorted. “If you have all the answers, why is Ferguson dead?”
“His partner believed he was a weak link. The partner killed him to keep him quiet.”
“The partner created the plan and planted chemical weapons on board the Pacific Star in his bid to destroy the cruise line. Maybe he was carrying out Ferguson’s agenda or had a separate one of his own and used Ferguson as the patsy.” Torres shook his head, expression grim. “Anything else I should know?”
Joe glanced at Nico. Should he tell the SEAL about the Maldonado group? They weren’t sure the two prongs of the Fortress investigation were connected and Joe didn’t want to send the feds in the wrong direction.
Shadow’s leader gave a slight nod.
He told Torres about Maldonado’s heightened communication level with the name Hollingbrook in their messages and the scout who had been photographing women as they boarded the Pacific Star.
“Oh, come on,” Brock scoffed. “A human trafficking group? You’re trying to create drama to get your names in the paper. What breathing man doesn’t appreciate a beautiful woman?”
Torres pinned Joe with another warning look before turning to his partner. “We need to interview the Hollingbrook executives. Find a quiet place and question them.”
Brock heaved himself to his feet. “Fine with me. I could use the fresh air.” The senior agent stalked from the room.
“How do you stand to work with him?” Trace muttered.
“No choice.”
“Turn in your badge and join Fortress,” Nico said. “Brent would love to have you work for him.”
The corners of Torres’s lips edged up. “He’s already made the offer. I’m thinking about it.”
Ben stirred. “Stop thinking and do it. The perks include more money and better teammates. You won’t regret it.”
The agent gave a slight nod and turned back to Joe and Sam. “You can go. Stay out of Brock’s way.”
He shrugged. “May not be possible.” Joe glanced at Nico. “Orders?”
“Find out where the executives are being interviewed. Stick close to Charlaine and Lance when Brock finishes with them. The killer already targeted Charlaine and the baby once. I don’t want to give him another shot at them. They won’t escape a second time.”
“Yes, sir.” He stood and helped Sam to her feet.
“Check in every hour.”
Joe saluted.
In the corridor, Sam said, “I guess Nico concluded Charlaine isn’t part of the plot to destroy Hollingbrook.”
“She was on the bottom of my suspect list. I can’t see Charlaine putting her daughter in danger. That still leaves the other three executives and who knows how many competitors who would love to take over Hollingbrook’s market share.”
They located Brock in the main dining room. He occupied a table in the corner with Charlaine sitting across from him. The agent recoiled at the loud scream from Kayla. “Can’t you do anything about that?” he demanded of the frazzled mother.
“I told you this was her
nap time. She’s tired and hungry. I need to take care of her.”
“I haven’t finished questioning you. Where’s your babysitter?”
“She’s dead, killed by a crazy man in a steward’s uniform.”
“There has to be someone else capable of holding her for a few minutes,” Brock said, clearly exasperated with this turn of events. “I’m hunting for a killer, lady. That’s more important than your baby.”
She gestured toward the other three executives cradling cups of coffee several tables away as they awaited their turn answering Brock’s questions. “Kayla comes first for me. If you’re in such a hurry to ask your questions, start with one of the others while I get her settled.”
Sam looked at Joe. “I can look after Kayla while Charlaine talks to Agent Brock.”
He glanced back to the agent and the mother, still arguing over Kayla’s escalating cries. “Might be a good idea, especially for Kayla. Brock will blow our cover. He won’t be able to resist the temptation to get back at us over the confrontation earlier.”
“Maybe the truth will make it easier for us to protect Charlaine and her daughter.”
Perhaps. Sometimes the truth made things more difficult, especially when emotions were involved. Sam and Charlaine had begun to form a bond. When the executive realized Sam had been playing an assigned role, she might feel betrayed.
Joe pressed his hand to Sam’s lower back. “We should go before Charlaine punches Brock.”
As they walked toward the corner table, Brock glanced up and scowled. “What are you two doing here? If you interfere with my investigation, I’ll slap the cuffs on you and haul you off this metal tub.”
Sam focused her attention on Charlaine and the baby. “Do you need help with your daughter? I’ll be glad to watch her while you talk to Agent Brock.”
The mother’s eyes widened. “You know each other?”
“We’ve met,” Joe said.
“We’re busy here, Gray.” Brock’s eyes glittered. “If you want to be a glory hound, go somewhere else. I don’t have time for a couple of mercenaries.”
Charlaine’s jaw dropped. The other executives twisted in their seats to stare at Joe and Sam, their expressions an odd mixture of disbelief and anger.