Shadow Rescue

by Rebecca Deel

  Joe sighed and exchanged a glance with Sam. “Told you,” he murmured.

  “What’s he talking about?” Charlaine looked from Joe to Sam. “I thought you were in the Army.”

  “We were in the Army,” Joe confirmed. “We work for Fortress Security now.”

  “We can talk about why we’re on board the Pacific Star later.” Sam held out her arms. “Let me help you with Kayla.”

  “I don’t know if I can trust you with her. You lied to me.”

  “Misled,” Sam corrected. “I’ll take her to the other side of the dining room. You can see me but her crying won’t bother Agent Brock. The sooner you answer his questions, the faster you’ll have Kayla in your arms.”

  Lacking another option, Charlaine placed her daughter in Sam’s arms. “Don’t leave this room with her.”

  A nod. “I’ll stay in your sight.”

  After Joe and Sam moved across the room, Brock resumed questioning Charlaine. The worried mother volleyed her glances between Sam and the FBI agent.

  “Do you want to hold her?” Sam asked fifteen minutes later.

  “I’d love to but I don’t think Charlaine would be comfortable with me holding her baby.”

  More long minutes passed. Sam fed Kayla, changed her diaper, and patted the baby’s back until she fell asleep.

  When Brock finished questioning Charlaine, she rose and hurried toward Sam and Joe without glancing at Lance. Kayla’s father, however, couldn’t take his eyes from his girlfriend and daughter.

  “Thank you for taking care of her for me.”

  “I’m sorry about the deception, Charlaine.” Sam carefully shifted Kayla from her arms to the mother’s. “We had a job to do. Playing the role of vacationing tourists was our cover story.”

  “Are you two really married?”

  “Not yet,” Joe said.

  Sam’s head whipped his direction, her eyes wide.

  “We are dating, though. I’m not letting her get away.”

  Some of the stiffness in Charlaine’s stance eased. “You’re so lucky,” she whispered, her own gaze darting to Lance who was still watching her while Dax made his way to the table to talk to Brock.

  “What do you plan to do the rest of the day?”

  “I want to see some of Puerto Vallarta.” She smiled down at her sleeping child. “I can’t be gone long and I don’t want to be too far from her baby supplies. Carting around baby stuff is almost like moving. When we go anywhere together, I carry three times more stuff for her than I do for myself.”

  “Mind if we tag along?” Joe asked.

  “Why would you want to?”

  He shifted closer and lowered his voice. “We’re worried about your safety.”

  Charlaine stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “The steward who killed your nanny was named Tom Ferguson. Is the name familiar to you?”

  “I know a Tom Ferguson. His father owned a competing cruise line. I can’t imagine it’s the same one, though.”

  Sam laid her hand on Charlaine’s shoulder. “It’s the same man. He wanted to hurt Hollingbrook and his business. He planned to use you to accomplish his goal.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. I can’t believe Tom’s on board the ship and I haven’t seen him.” She motioned toward her co-workers. “If the others had seen him, they would have mentioned it. Have you arrested him?”

  “We’re not cops. We can detain, not arrest. We did detain him, but his accomplice killed him.”

  Blood drained from the woman’s face. “He’s dead?” She cast a glance Lance’s direction, fear evident on her face.

  He got to his feet immediately and came to her. The other men stared after him, speculation in their gazes. “What is it? What’s happened?” Lance laid a hand gently on Kayla. “Is the baby okay?”

  “She’s fine. It’s Tom Ferguson. He’s been on this cruise. Someone murdered him, Lance.”

  Lance stared at Joe and Sam. “I haven’t heard anything about it. Are you sure he was murdered?”

  “No question.”

  The other man wrapped his arm around Charlaine’s shoulder and drew her close to his body. “I need to get Charlaine and Kayla off this ship. Can you help me do that?”

  “Depends,” Joe said. “Are you talking about getting them away from the ship for a day at Puerto Vallarta or sending them home?”

  “Home.”

  Charlaine shook her head. “I can’t go home. You know Mike insists his executives take at least one cruise a year. I had to beg off the others because I was either pregnant or recovering from Kayla’s birth. I need this job, Lance.”

  “No job is worth your life. Kayla needs her mother.” He glanced around to be sure the other executives weren’t within earshot and murmured, “I need you, honey. Please, for our sake, let me make arrangements for you to go home.”

  She turned to Joe and Sam, appeal in her eyes. “What do you think I should do?”

  “Go home. Better yet, go on vacation somewhere with Lance and your baby. If you can’t take more time off, hire a bodyguard.”

  “Why?”

  Joe grimaced. “Ferguson didn’t target Bianca. He was after you, Charlaine. If you had still been in the cabin when Ferguson showed up, you would be the one on the way to the morgue, not Bianca.”

  Lance cursed, then cupped his girlfriend’s cheek with his palm and turned her face to his. “Charlaine, please. Kayla and I need you safe. If you won’t go home for my sake, go home for Kayla’s.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. “All right. I’ll go if you come with me. If I’m a target, you might be, too. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

  He dropped a kiss on her lips. “Deal.” Lance turned to Joe. “I need my family away from here as soon as possible. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Let me make a call. I’ll see what Fortress can arrange for you.” Joe went out to the corridor and called Zane.

  “Yeah, Murphy.”

  “It’s Joe. I need a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  “We need to get Lance Farraday and Charlaine and Kayla Bennett out of Puerto Vallarta as soon as possible. We think Charlaine and possibly the baby are still targets for the killer.”

  “Hold.” Sounds of Zane’s fingers flying over his laptop keyboard came over the cell connection. “Bravo is returning from a mission in South America. I’ve rerouted them. They’ll be on the ground in three hours at Gustavo Diaz Ordaz International Airport. Have Farraday and the Bennetts there with their belongings. Bravo will make sure they arrive in the US safely. Are they going home or somewhere else?”

  “Preferably somewhere else.”

  “Find out if they like the beach. If they do, I’ll arrange for them to stay in a condo on the beach front. If not, I’ll work out something else.”

  “Thanks, Z.”

  “Yep. How are you?”

  “Better. Sam did a great job.”

  “Not surprising. She’s a top-flight medic. More important, she cares a great deal about you.”

  “I’ll send you Lance and Charlaine’s preferences in a couple minutes. Also, send St. Claire a message to keep an eye on Lance and Charlaine. If we find out they’re involved in what’s happening, he’ll have to turn them over to the feds.”

  “Copy that. I assigned the geeks to your deeper background search on the executives and the security footage from the stairwell incident. I should know more in less than an hour.” With that, his friend ended the call.

  Joe returned to the dining room as Brock finished questioning Dax and called for Colt to join him at the table. He stopped at Sam’s side. “All set, Lance. You’re leaving Puerto Vallarta in three hours on board a Fortress jet. One of our teams will escort you to the States. Would you prefer a vacation at the beach or somewhere else?”

  Charlaine’s face lit up. “Beach. I’d love to take Kayla there.”

  He smiled. “Excellent. We’ll arrange for a condo on the beach for the
three of you.”

  Lance held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  “What’s going on?” Dax strode up to them, a scowl on his face, his gaze locked on the other two executives.

  “I’m getting Kayla and Charlaine out of here. They’re not safe.”

  “You two look pretty cozy.” He lowered his voice. “You know how Mike feels about his employees seeing each other.”

  “Tough,” Lance snapped. “There are other jobs. I’ll find another one if he fires me. The one thing I won’t do is give up Charlaine or my daughter.”

  “Please don’t say anything to Mike, Dax,” Charlaine begged.

  “I’m not the one you need to worry about.” The executive inclined his head to the younger executive watching them with glittering eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Sam folded Kayla’s clothes and placed them in her adorable pink suitcase. She marveled at the tiny clothes. Sam hoped to pack clothes like this for her own daughter one day. Her lips curved. Maybe a daughter with dark hair and eyes like Joe’s.

  What had Joe meant when he said they weren’t married yet but he wasn’t planning to let her go? Did he mean what she hoped? As soon as Shadow finished this mission, Sam intended to find out. Not knowing would drive her crazy.

  “How long have you and Joe been together?”

  “We’ve worked together for five years. We recently started dating.”

  “He’s in love with you.”

  Sam swung around to face Charlaine, hope unfurling in her heart. “How do you know?”

  “His feelings are obvious every time he looks at you or touches you. That man adores you.”

  Was Charlaine right? “The feeling is mutual.”

  “You haven’t told him how you feel?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What are you waiting for?” The young mother snapped closed her own suitcase. “Don’t let circumstances stop you from doing what’s best for you and Joe.”

  “Will you take your own advice?”

  A sad smile curved Charlaine’s mouth. “I want to. I’m afraid to give up my job.”

  “You and Lance have a few days together to decide what you want to do. There are other jobs.” She smiled. “In the words of a wise friend, don’t let circumstances stop you from doing what’s best for you, Kayla, and Lance.”

  Soft laughter. “Serves me right for offering unwanted advice.”

  “Would you marry him if he asked?”

  “He already has. Several times.” Her gaze shifted to Kayla. “I’m thinking about saying yes the next time he asks.”

  Sam glanced at her. “Maybe you should ask him to marry you this time. The beach vacation could be turned into a nice honeymoon for three.”

  Charlaine’s eyes lit. “I might do that. He’d be surprised.”

  “And thrilled, I bet.”

  They finished packing Charlaine’s and Kayla’s belongings as a knock sounded on the door.

  Charlaine turned to answer the door, but Sam laid a hand on her arm. “Let me make sure it’s safe.” She eased her Sig from the holster at her back and held it down by her side. A peek through the peephole showed Joe waiting in the corridor.

  Sam slid the weapon away and opened the door.

  “Ready?” Joe asked as he stepped inside the cabin, followed by Trace and Ben.

  “Just finished.”

  The three men gathered the baby gear and Charlaine’s luggage while she grabbed the diaper bag and her carry-on luggage. As she and Charlaine had discussed, Sam cuddled Kayla close. She smiled as the little one melted against her shoulder. Such a sweet baby. Being Kayla’s bodyguard was no hardship.

  The group met Lance and Curt at the other end of the corridor and left the ship together. They walked to the car rental area where a large SUV waited on them. Lance and Charlaine climbed into the backseat with their daughter while the operatives loaded the luggage in the cargo area. Once Kayla was strapped into the car seat Zane had requested, Joe climbed behind the wheel and Sam hopped into the shotgun seat. With a wave at his teammates, Joe drove toward the airport.

  Sam and Joe watched their surroundings and the mirrors. She breathed a sigh of relief when they arrived at the airfield without incident. A few more minutes and the little family would be safely off the ground.

  Near the Fortress jet, Joe turned off the engine. “Wait here for a moment.” He exited the SUV and scanned for potential threats to their passengers.

  “Is this necessary?” Lance asked. “Our trip to the airport was unplanned.”

  Sam glanced back at him. “We don’t know who masterminded the events on board the Pacific Star or what kind of connections he has. The feds know about our plans and Agent Brock isn’t capable of discretion.”

  Joe pressed his phone to his ear. In less than a minute, three men exited the jet and crossed the tarmac to the SUV. Joe greeted Trent St. Claire, Bravo’s leader, along with Cade Ramsey and Matt Rainer, two of his teammates.

  Joe opened the back door of the SUV and extended his hand to Charlaine. “Let’s get you and your family on the jet.” In short order, the five men were loaded down with luggage and baby supplies. As they trekked across the airfield, Sam carried the baby while Charlaine hoisted the diaper bag and her own carry-on luggage.

  One of the men dropped a stuffed rabbit. Charlaine hurried ahead of Sam to scoop the toy from the ground. Sam continued toward the jet, murmuring to the stirring baby, hoping Kayla wouldn’t rouse until the jet was in the air.

  She approached an area of shadows, the one place where the lights around the airfield didn’t reach. Uneasy, Sam searched the darkened area even as she gave it a wider berth. Movement caused her to tighten her grip on the baby and quicken her pace. Ahead of her, Charlaine, Lance, and most of the operatives were near the jet’s stairs. Joe turned back to wait for her and Kayla.

  The alarm in Joe’s face and a whoosh of air were Sam’s only warnings before a hard arm gripped her waist and yanked her against a massive chest. The cold steel of a gun barrel pressed to her head.

  Joe dropped the luggage he carried and drew his weapon. Charlaine cried out in fear. The other operatives freed their hands and drew their weapons, expressions grim and determined.

  Joe slowly moved toward Sam and her captor. “Let her go, Flores, and you might leave this airfield alive.”

  Ice flowed through Sam’s veins. Oh, man. Reuben Flores, the second-in-command of the Maldonado human trafficking ring. Why was he at the airfield? Why face off with armed men alone?

  More feet shuffling in the darkness told Sam that Flores brought friends to the party. Careful to pitch her voice so Joe heard her words but she wouldn’t scare Kayla, Sam said, “Tell your friends to drop their weapons and back away if they want to live, Flores.”

  Joe signaled Trent and the other operatives. They shifted position.

  Flores’s tight grip made breathing difficult for Sam. If she passed out, Kayla would fall.

  “Your bodyguards won’t shoot with you and the brat at risk,” he said in accented English.

  Her bodyguards? Sam’s eyes locked with Joe’s. Fear for her and the baby as well as grim determination to free them filled his eyes as he moved closer.

  “Stop right there,” Flores ordered.

  “What do you want?” Joe kept his weapon trained on the thug at Sam’s back.

  A triumphant laugh filled the night air. “I have what I came for. Put down your gun.”

  Joe shook his head, shifting to the right, angling for a better shot. “Not going to happen. Let them go.”

  Flores snorted. “And give you a free shot at me? You must think I’m stupid.”

  Joe signaled Bravo to take Charlaine and Lance to safety. Flores believed Sam was Kayla’s mother. If he learned the truth from the panicked mother, the trafficker would order his friends to grab Charlaine. At least Sam had a chance to defend herself. Charlaine wouldn’t.

  Kayla started to squirm and whimper.

  “Shh.” Sam tried to so
othe the baby back to sleep to no avail. Kayla gave a few fretful cries. “Let my friend take the baby,” she urged Flores. “A crying baby will draw attention you don’t want.”

  “Shut her up before I do it for you,” he growled.

  “It doesn’t work that way. The crying will grow louder the longer we wait. Please, she’s just a baby. She can’t help crying.”

  Flores uttered vile curses in Spanish. “If your man does anything but take the baby, the first bullet goes into your head. The second goes into his.”

  Matt Rainer spoke softly to Kayla’s parents and hurried them inside the jet.

  Sam looked at Joe, willing him to understand. “Take our baby.”

  “Gun on the ground first,” Flores ordered Joe. “Do anything but take the brat and I put a bullet in your woman’s head. Then my friends will kill you and your buddies.”

  Joe placed his Sig on the ground near his feet. “Take me instead of my girlfriend. I’ll be your hostage.”

  The thug laughed. “You’re not my type. Your woman, however, is exactly the kind of woman I want in my bed. Take your brat before I shut her up myself. Jorge, if her boyfriend disobeys my instructions, kill the brat. Diego, keep your attention on the boyfriend. If he twitches the wrong way, fill him full of lead.”

  Another man separated himself from the other shadowy figures on the tarmac and lifted his weapon. A moment later, a red laser light centered on Kayla. The second man trained his weapon on Joe’s heart.

  Panic and nausea built inside Sam. Joe wasn’t wearing a vest. If Diego’s bullet hit Joe’s heart, the man she loved with every beat of her heart would die.

  Sam tried to twist her body to shield the baby from danger. Flores’s hold tightened enough that Sam was in excruciating pain and held completely immobile. Frustrated, she caught Joe’s eye and shook her head slightly. Whatever went down on the tarmac, she wouldn’t be able to help.

  Joe glided further to the right by a few inches before he closed the distance between himself and Sam. “Easy, Flores. Don’t hurt my daughter or woman.”

  The thug barked out a laugh. “You’re more interested in your brat than your woman. What kind of man are you?” Flores stuck his face near Sam’s hair and drew in a deep breath. “Maybe you aren’t man enough to know what to do with her.”