“Integrity.” Jared glanced up and smiled at her.
“A small trap for me? Really, Mr. King, do you think I’d reveal more than my previous agency has allowed?”
“Actually, I was hoping you wouldn’t. I like to know the character of the person I’m talking with.” Jared placed his pen on the tablet of paper and leaned back. “Please, continue.”
“Approximately two and a half years ago, my partner Joshua Kadosh and I were assigned a case in which my superiors believed a person tied to Stratus had utilized connections to a nightclub in Tel Aviv to distribute drugs. When my organization did the initial background, it was also noted that five women had gone missing from the club. There was no tie between the women.”
Jared looked up. “You believe the club was involved in drug and human trafficking?”
“It was our belief, yes. The local authorities were called off the case and I was put into the club as a waitress. I made friends within management over the next five months. After all that time I only had suspicions, hints from people, and rumors that the owner’s lover was really running the club and all the activities. So, the plan was developed to have me start dating a local police officer who was brought into the operation. The next month, I warned the manager of a raid that was going to happen. It earned me his confidence and an introduction to the person people thought was his lover.”
“She was his boss,” Jared stated.
“She was. Amira Raz. She was less trusting. It took an additional six months before she approached me. She was moving and wanted a core of people to go with her. I was selected in part because I also speak French. I flew with her to Quebec. She arrived with five of us from the Tel Aviv club. Every night we were told what type of woman to watch for. The description changed. Sometimes every night, sometimes, when the looks were unique, we could look for weeks. Finally, six months after we arrived, one of the people who traveled with us from Tel Aviv found a woman who met all the requirements Amira required. I was told to serve her table drinks. Her drink was drugged. When she got sick, I followed her into the bathroom. The rest was a precision operation. Within minutes, an ambulance crew entered through the back of the establishment, they put her on a stretcher, one gave her a shot that knocked her out, and they left. They weren’t in the club for more than three minutes. I was pulled from the floor to the offices upstairs. We watched as the women she was with looked through the club for her. They just left without her. Amira was the Cheshire Cat. All smiles.”
“Do you know what happened to the woman?” Jared asked.
“My partner Joshua got to her. I had a burner telephone in a waterproof case in the bathroom and stored more in several other areas of the club. Places where there were no cameras. After they left, I was supposed to make sure there were no traces of them in the bathroom or the hallway. I sent a text to Joshua, my partner. He faked being drunk and swerved into the ambulance. The Sûreté du Québec were on scene almost immediately and they took the woman, and the Mossad, who operate in Quebec, were able to divert the ambulance carrying the two fake ambulance drivers. They were questioned and detained out of the country.”
“And Amira?”
“She was livid. Life for those of us who worked for her was rough for a while. She was paranoid and had us watched. I didn’t risk making contact with Joshua for almost three months.”
“How long did you work for her?”
“I didn’t stop. The information we received from the ambulance drivers confirmed her ties to Stratus. I was told to continue to make myself valuable.”
“How many women were taken from the club when you were working there?”
“Five that I am aware of, but I didn’t work every night. The nights I did, I tried to let Joshua know what was happening. We were able to liberate three women through different ruses. The first was the accident. The second was a traffic stop. The third was a drug raid on the location where the drivers left the woman.”
“And all this caused more suspicion?” Jared asked.
“Yes.”
“And eventually, they connected you to Joshua,” Jared stated, nodding his head.
“That is what I hypothesize.” Shae drew a shaking hand through her hair.
“Do you know what happened to Joshua?”
Jared nodded. His eyes darted from Shae to John and then back again. “He was tortured and killed. His body was found on the shores of a beach in Italy.”
“She said he’d admitted we were Mossad. I can understand that. I know exactly why he broke.” Shae drew a ragged breath and extended her hand under the table and John took it in his.
“So, what happened next?”
“I woke up in the pit.”
“Go on,” Jared prompted.
Shae cleared her throat. “No, I will not answer that. That’s where I draw the line.”
Jared King glanced up from his almost completely-used pad of paper. “I’m sorry, what?”
“What happened to me in that pit is not relevant to the interview. I’ve talked with Doctor Wheeler about my boundaries. I will tell you about the people who came after I was taken. I will tell you what my captor said to me, but I will not revisit what happened to me during that time.” Shae glanced down at her lap.
“I have no problem with that boundary. Did you ever get Amira’s supervisor’s name? Any information as to who she reported to?”
“No. After the first night, when we rescued the woman from the ambulance drivers, I was held at arm’s length. Everyone was. Amira was important, but I got the feeling she was a smaller cog. But I know who worked for her.” Shae closed her eyes and rattled off a list of names, physical descriptions, and small nuggets of information on each of the people she worked with during her time in Quebec.
“How did you get to the location we found you?” Jared’s question sent another full-body shudder through her.
“Do you need a break?” John uttered his first words since the interview started.
She shook her head. “No, I need to finish.” She stared at Jared King. “I don’t have any recollection. Other than glimpses of being broadsided by a car when I was driving home… When they brought me back to consciousness, I was in the pit and there were—” She closed her eyes and he could swear she was counting. “—eight people there besides Maurice. She was sitting in the middle. The woman in the middle was in charge. She was the one who asked me what the Mossad knew. I didn’t break, not for her. I kept my cover, even when they told me that my partner had broken and given them information. I didn’t say a word except to beg them to stop. I kept telling them they made a mistake.”
“But that didn’t work,” Jared stated.
“No. She was extremely upset, but then that rage settled into a cold, quiet… evil. Her accent was American, not southern or like the people here on the ranch. Clipped, precise English, more like… more like a businesswoman. She turned me over to Maurice. They left.”
“Can you describe her?”
“I can. I was in pain, but her? Yes, I can describe her to you. I will never forget her face. Ever.”
“I’ll have a forensic artist flown out.” He tapped his pen against his pad. “You said she was the boss. How did you know?”
“The authority in her voice. She was the one speaking, no one else said a word. It was obvious she controlled everything. Also, she called, she ordered Maurice to kill me. He said so. It was the only thing that bastard said to me. That and he told me he wouldn’t make it fast.”
Jared nodded. “He was captured when you were rescued and he’s corroborated exactly what you’ve said today in regard to the events in the pit, as you call it.”
Shae wrapped her arms around her stomach and closed her eyes. “He told you what he did to me.”
“In fine detail,” Jared acknowledged.
She shivered. “He’s a sadist.”
“And a psychopath,” Jared added.
“Is that all you need?” John nodded to Shae. Her eyes were closed, and she
was shivering, even though it was stuffy in the room.
“It is. Thank you, Shae. I believe you’ve given us a considerable amount of information that we didn’t have before.”
She leaned back and opened her eyes. “I would like you to take your brothers a message.”
“I can do that. What is it?” Jared stopped clearing his space and gave her his undivided attention.
“I cannot work for Guardian. I realize that I may owe the company for my treatment and rent for my domicile. If you would please send John the bill, I will make sure you are paid. It may take some time, but I’m good for it.” Shae stood as she spoke.
John rose and cracked the door open. Fresh, cooler air flooded the small room. She glanced over at him. A flicker of a smile crossed her lips.
Jared stood also and shook his head. “You don’t need to repay Guardian for anything. We will call the information you provided today payment in full. As for the cottage, well, that is my stepfather’s house. You are staying there because he said it was happening and nobody bucks what Frank Marshall says. Not on this side of the ranch and definitely not on that side of the ranch.” The man chuckled, “None of us are that brave.”
“I have met him and his wife Amanda. They are good people. If you don’t have anything else?”
“No, we’re done here. I’ll send the artist to you as soon as we can get them a flight.”
“Thank you, I will be here for the foreseeable future. Should that change, I will let you know.”
“Thank you again, Shae. You helped advance our investigation. My husband is a survivor, you remind me a lot of him. You’re tough.”
“Surviving is the easy part, Mr. King. Living after… that is cripplingly difficult. I’m glad your husband was strong enough to go on. I almost wasn’t.” Shae made for the door and took John’s hand on the way out, damn near tugging him out of the door with her. He glanced back at Jared, gave the man a quick nod, and hustled out of the building, linked with Shae, who had a death grip on him.
Chapter 16
Shae sat on one of the chairs on John’s porch. They’d fed Velvet and she’d spent a long time brushing him. The colt loved the attention and she needed to focus on something outside of herself. Velvet gave her that option. He was growing tall and pranced around the enclosure with his tail held high, making her laugh at his superior attitude. That façade crumbled as soon as she opened the gate to his smaller pen. He’d trot in and nuzzle against her. The utter trust and dependency the colt displayed was refreshing and rejuvenating. She lapped up his attention as much as he enjoyed hers.
John came outside with two glasses of iced tea. “Dinner will be about a half-hour.” He handed one of the drinks to her.
“Thank you. For everything.” Shae moved so she was sitting sideways, looking at him.
“No thanks are necessary.” A light blush of red spread across his cheeks.
She smiled and shook her head. “They may not be necessary, but they are warranted. I felt exposed and vulnerable. My experiences on that mission changed who I am.”
John took a drink of his tea and set it down on the boards that comprised the wrap-around porch. “I can imagine. Do you know why I’m here on the ranch?”
Shae closed one eye and squinted at him. “Frank Marshall was looking for a ranch manager and you were looking for a ranch to manage.”
John threw back his head and laughed, “Damn near word for word what I told you, but no. My sister and I worked for an agency that decided we were liabilities. She was murdered and I ran to the only agency I knew that had integrity and the resources to get me out of D.C. without raising suspicions.”
Shae put her drink down and lifted her feet up into the chair, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Guardian.” He nodded and stared out over the pastures. “Did you have other family?” She had her mother, but they weren’t close. Not any longer.
“My father was killed about four months before my sister was murdered. The police didn’t have any suspects or leads, but my sister told me he was working a con against a connected family, so maybe his luck finally ran out.”
Shae cocked her head at the term. “Connected?”
“Ties to the mafia. Lori said he bragged to her that the con would net him fifteen million dollars.”
“Wait, your father was a conman?”
John grimaced. “There is a lot about my past that I can’t talk about. It’s dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because it could get you killed.” He turned and stared at her.
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “I think I’ve proven that I am pretty hard to kill.”
He blinked and then snorted. “Yes, you are one tough cookie.”
“Then tell me.” She shrugged. “Who am I going to tell? You know my darkest secrets and I trust you to keep them. Maybe letting someone you trust in could be cathartic.”
“I couldn’t tell you specifics.”
“Then keep it general. I understand, you know I do.”
John nodded. “My old man was a grifter. I was picking pockets by the time I was six. He used both Lori and me in cons and I could run my own scheme by the time I was fourteen. Hell, we were expected to make money, to pay him back for everything he invested in us. We didn’t know any other way.”
“So, you went from working with your father to…?” She left the question open.
“Ah, well… Lori and I were very proficient at making false identifications. We were damn good, actually. We went from state-issued identification to federal,” he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “The Feds didn’t like it and they were a hell of a lot more tenacious than the state authorities. They caught me with a pocket full of IDs. This was after Nine-Eleven and I was caught up in the Homeland sweep. After they cleared me of any terrorist activities, I was shoved in front of a judge who told me I could fight for my country or I could rot in a cell. I went into the service. It was… liberating.”
Shae blinked and shook her head. “Military service was liberating?” She’d served in the Israeli Army for two years; the forced discipline was anything but liberating.
“Oh, God, yes. My father was a master manipulator. He used us. When I joined the military, his power over me was gone. I loved the regimented lifestyle. I thrived on it, actually. I was damn good with a rifle and became a sniper.” He sighed. “I guess that’s probably why I love the ranch so much. I know exactly what needs to be done and when it needs to be done. It feeds something in me that I didn’t have when I was growing up.”
“Your sister stayed with your father?”
He nodded. “I took the rap for everything with the IDs and I served two enlistments doing exactly what the judge demanded. I fought for this country. I asked Lori to come with me, told her I’d take care of her, but she was making money hand over fist. Lori loved money, probably more than our father did. She was so damned focused on her future, on gaining more and more money. I could care less. I didn’t want to leave the military.”
“Then why did you?” Shae leaned back against the chair and stared at his profile.
“She called out of the blue about the time I was considering whether or not to re-enlist and told me she had an opportunity I shouldn’t pass up. The… entity she was working for wanted us both. She’d told them about the cons we’d developed, the things we’d done. They recruited me and threw a lot of money in our direction. So, I got out and went to work in D.C.”
“Then you weren’t needed?” She was trying to understand any rationale for an entity to eliminate a valuable resource that they’d recruited.
John stared out over the pastureland, but she doubted he saw anything but his memories. “When a person knows too much there comes a time when their value becomes a potential liability.”
“You knew too much…” Shae stared at him while he stared out across the horizon. “You knew too much.” Reality dawned on her. “About things or people they didn’t want discovered. They killed your
sister and wanted to kill you to make sure those secrets were never divulged.”
John nodded. “Exactly.”
She slid off the chair and knee-walked the small distance to where he sat. She rested her hands on his thighs. The warmth and hardness of his flesh under the material were difficult not to notice, but she wanted an answer to a question he hadn’t answered yet. “You said you never leave the ranch. Why were you in Canada?”
He opened his legs and she moved between them. He covered her hands and gazed at her a second or two before speaking. “Guardian had uncovered an obscure message about my sister. We were running down hunches.”
“Thank God you did.” Shae leaned forward and rested her head against his chest. He held her loosely in his arms. The warmth of his body leached into her and she let her muscles relax against him. If he hadn’t chased that hunch, she’d be dead. A shiver ran through her at the thought. “Did you uncover anything?”
“Besides you? No. All the coordinates were a wash. All except yours. I’ve resigned myself to never knowing who in the organization ordered Lori’s death and my assassination. Not knowing will always haunt me and keep me here. Not that I mind. I’d be perfectly happy here. Now.”
Another shudder of sensation raced through her, but this one wasn’t initiated by fear. No, the thought of living here, with John…
“Are you cold? We can go inside.”
The vibration of his deep voice rumbled under her ear. “I’m not cold, but I think we should go inside.” She lifted away from the light embrace and stared at him. She could see the hesitation in his eyes. “I need to feel something good, John. With you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very.” She leaned forward and kissed him. It took a second or two for him to catch up as the tentative kiss continued. He shifted on the chair, moving closer to her, and gently enfolded her into an embrace. The kiss they shared this morning wasn’t a fluke. Was it? Not the actual contact, that was definitely intentional, but her reaction to his touch… She’d played it over and over in her head as she cared for Velvet and John did his nightly chores in the barn. Had the extreme emotion of revisiting her past caused her to misjudge the chemistry between them? Did he feel the same connection as she did?
John (Guardian Defenders Book 3) Page 12