Sean saw a lone man looking away from him, standing guard next to a jeep. Beyond the jeep was a small two-story adobe house, hidden in part by trees and overgrown bushes. A thump to the south—near where Jack had gone—had drawn the man’s attention. Sean had circled around him to get behind when he heard a shout.
“Daniel! Behind you!”
The man Sean was stalking whirled around and aimed his gun at Sean. Sean fired twice and the man went down without firing a shot.
A bullet whizzed past Sean. A man stood on the roof. Sean shot at him and missed, then took cover against the side of the house.
There was more gunfire to the south, and then Sean saw Jack coming through the trees.
“Roof!” Sean shouted. Jack sidestepped and hid behind a tree.
Over the radio that had fallen next to the dead man by the Jeep, Sean overheard the man on the roof asking for a status report. No one responded.
In Sean’s earpiece, he heard Jack.
“We need him alive.”
Jack already believed Lucy wasn’t here.
Jack continued speaking in a low, calm voice. “Stay. I’m going to circle around to your location, then we’ll clear the house and detain the shooter on the roof.”
“Roger,” Sean said. He itched to go inside. What if Lucy was injured? Restrained? Dead?
Lucy is not dead.
Sean waited in silence, listening for signs of an ambush. Nothing. No footfalls, no voices. He heard birds and intermittent static on the radio twenty feet in front of him. Footsteps above on the roof, the lone survivor pacing, nervous.
He should damn well be nervous.
Sean heard a whistle to his right. It sounded exactly like Kane, but Sean knew it was Jack. Sean stayed close to the house, rounded the corner, and saw Jack at the door. He was inspecting it for a booby trap. When he was satisfied, he held up his fingers.
Three.
Two.
One.
Jack went in high, Sean low. They cleared the ground floor quickly—there was only a small room in the back, a living area, and a kitchen. Jack led the way upstairs. There was a bedroom and a small den with an adjoining bath.
Sean held up a jacket. It was Lucy’s. She had been here. He glanced around. Broken glass. Untouched food on the desk. A toppled chair.
Jack nodded, then whispered, “The only roof access is from the balcony off the bedroom. I need him alive. There’s a tree that appears sturdy at the northeast corner of the roof. I’m going to climb it and get him in my sights. I’ll give you the signal, you—” He stopped, listening. Sean didn’t hear anything. “Scratch that, he’s coming in.”
Jack glanced around the doorjamb, holding up his hand for Sean to stay where he was.
Jack then shouted an order in Spanish. Sean knew a little but wasn’t fluent. He thought Jack said, “Stop or die.”
The man fired on Jack. Jack waited a split second, then fired back. Jack was the better shot. The man went down, writhing in pain.
“Cover me,” Jack ordered, and ran into the hall. He disarmed the man of two guns and a knife, searched him, then pulled a rag from his back pocket and tied it around the shooter’s arm. Blood seeped through.
Jack spoke rapidly in Spanish. The shooter spit in his face. Jack hit his wound and the man screamed. Jack spoke again. Fast and calm. Whatever the guy said wasn’t the right answer; Jack punched him in the chest, then spoke again. The shooter swore. Even Sean could understand the vivid expletives.
Jack hauled the shooter up and said to Sean, “Guard the main door.”
“Do you—”
“Now.”
Sean hadn’t seen this side of Jack before. He knew it was there—he’d seen hints of it over the years—but this was the Jack who’d been an Army Ranger, who had been a mercenary, who had saved Lucy eight years ago from a psychopath. Cold. Dark. Hard as a rock.
Sean went downstairs and stood sentry. He didn’t hear anything for several long minutes. As the silence continued, he worried about Jack … he almost went upstairs to make sure he was okay.
But he waited. An earsplitting scream broke through the silence, then nothing.
Two minutes later, Jack came downstairs. Sean couldn’t read his expression.
“When Flores learned Dante Romero left Guadalajara, she sent men to find him. My guess is as long as he was within her domain she felt she could control him. Or, she thought his disappearance was a sign of guilt. This morning his team leader got a call from Flores with the location of Dante’s safe house. They didn’t find Dante. Instead, they found a blind woman.”
“A blind woman? Who?”
“They kept her here waiting for Romero to show, believing she was his mistress and they could leverage her to force him to cooperate. Then Angelo Zapelli came in.”
Bile rose in the back of Sean’s throat. He couldn’t speak.
“The man said Zapelli recognized her, that she was someone of interest, but he didn’t hear her name or why the interest. He is just a low-level thug. Zapelli took Lucy to Jasmine Flores. The compound is a four-plus-hour drive. He has no plane, and none of the men who went with them can fly. That gives us the edge. Four hours puts him arriving well after sunset. We’ll ambush him before then.”
“Jack—”
“Don’t think about it. You fly, I plan. You can hot-wire the jeep?”
Sean nodded. Zapelli had many reasons to hate Lucy, not the least of which was because she was a federal agent. She’d interrogated him, she’d manipulated him during questioning, she and Noah had forced him to cooperate and had ultimately stopped the Flores black-market baby operation based in part on information they’d obtained from Zapelli. But Zapelli would also know that Lucy was a Kincaid.
A federal agent and Jack’s sister. She was a prize to them. A big, juicy prize they could do anything with because she was now their prisoner.
“Sean!” Jack exclaimed. Sean jumped. “Do it. I’m going to search for maps and information, I’ll be out in two minutes. Get the jeep working.”
As soon as Sean stepped out of the house, Jack closed the door and called Kane.
“We have a big fucking problem. If anything happens to Lucy, there is no place on earth that Liam can hide from me. And when I find him, he will wish he’d never been born.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Gabriella slipped into the room next to Jasmine’s office and quietly closed the door. It was dark and cool in here. Months ago, Gabriella had discovered that the corner of this sitting room provided perfect sound whenever Dominick—and then Jasmine—was at the desk. It helped that Gabriella had created a makeshift amplifier. She put the earpiece in her ear and listened. If anyone questioned her, it was hooked up to her iPod. She could simply be listening to music … not eavesdropping.
Jasmine was on the phone with one of her henchmen. “Are you certain?” she said. She sounded cautiously excited about something. “And Romero?” A long silence. “Have them wait. I don’t care how long it takes, I want him … Yes, even though you have someone better. I didn’t get to be in this position because I let my enemies go free. Come straight here, I want to meet this woman.”
Jasmine hung up. Typed on her computer. A knock on her door, then, “Sit, Thomas. We have more work to do.”
“I do not think you understand how complicated this process is.”
“I don’t want to hear excuses, I want it done. With your expertise comes money and protection.”
“Ms. Flores, I need to establish brand-new accounts, new corporations, it takes time.”
“Then why are you talking when you can be working?”
“The banks are closed in the Western Hemisphere until morning. I have the paperwork drawn up for the corporations, but we first need to establish the accounts. Then I need—”
“I don’t need the details, I just need it done. What else?”
“You asked me to verify your family assets. I’m not an accountant—”
“Then find an accountant! Why
is it that no one can think for themselves anymore?”
Gabriella recognized that tone. Dominick had the same level of frustration before he had someone killed—only it usually took him much longer to reach that boiling point. Jasmine was definitely more volatile than the former head of the family.
Thomas Morrison would need to tread very carefully.
“I have a rough estimate. I’ll bring in someone tomorrow.”
“Have Herman vet whoever it is.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well? Don’t keep me waiting. What is your rough estimate?”
“Two point six million.”
There was silence. Gabriella half expected to hear a gunshot. This Thomas Morrison was an idiot. Never give Jasmine Flores bad news. Always send someone else to do it.
“You’re right,” Jasmine said after a long minute. “You’re not an accountant. I’ll have one brought in. Get everything ready for him. You’re off by tens of millions of dollars.”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s just that—you, um, there have been many expenses incurred over the last month. And, um, the US government seized every US bank account and shut down several companies, plus several foreign accounts have holds on them.”
“Get the holds off.”
“It’s not possible.”
The pounding of Jasmine’s fist on her desk made Gabriella jump. “I”—pound—“don’t”—pound—“care! Make it”—pound—“happen!”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Just do it! Idiot!”
The door opened, and closed quickly.
“Where the fuck is the money? That prick Spade didn’t control it all.” Jasmine started muttering. Talking about Dominick, about lies and hidden accounts.
Dominick had tens of millions of dollars. While not all of it was liquid, he definitely had money he could access. Was Carson Spade smart enough to put it all under his control? Maybe. Gabriella didn’t like the jerk, but he was brilliant when it came to dollars and cents and managing people.
Still, Gabriella knew Dominick, and he would never entrust one person with all his money. Two point six million? Peanuts compared to the Floreses’ true wealth.
What had Dom done with his money? This was an area that Dante knew far more about than she did. And while Dante didn’t like working with the cartels, he sometimes did favors to keep the trains running on time, so to speak. Safety was a premium, and Dante might have given Dom advice on how to manage his resources in the event of a coup. Dom hadn’t been worried about Jasmine—he’d always thought Samuel would be the one to betray him.
Dom wouldn’t give Dante control over his funds, but information was almost as important.
She heard Jasmine’s voice again. It took Gabriella a moment to realize she was talking on the phone.
“… ten million.”
Gabriella leaned forward.
“It’s not a lot of money for you, darling,” Jasmine said. “She’s not just any federal agent. Her last name is Kincaid.”
Her? Kincaid? Gabriella’s hand drifted to her mouth. How had Jasmine found Lucy Kincaid? Jack’s little sister? What had Dante done? Had he really left her in the safe house? Left her to fend for herself?
“I have proof. I’ll shoot you a photo. Will that do?… I need to talk to her first. She has information I need … Yes, I know for a fact that she’s Jack Kincaid’s sister … I have no idea … No … Not my problem … Good. As soon as I receive confirmation that the payment went through, I’ll send my people over with her … No, the picture will be proof of life, Raymond … Good.” She hung up. More typing.
Gabriella slipped out of the room. She had to get out of here. Find a way to tell Jack—but Jack must know by now. She’d sent him the information about Dante’s house, but he must have been too late.
Why do you care? You don’t know the girl.
Jack was Greg’s friend. Jack saved your life, helped avenge Greg’s death.
Gabriella hated owing anyone for anything. She made a point of wiping the slate clean. Jack would come for Lucy—he was smart. He’d figure out where she was.
But could she count on it? Before Jasmine sold Lucy to the highest bidder?
She bit her lip. Never was she torn about anything. When she’d fallen in love with Greg, she’d fallen hard. When she’d lost Greg, she mourned hard. When she decided to seek revenge, she’d done so patiently, quietly, systematically, ruthlessly.
She and Dante wouldn’t be able to return to this area, but they’d already known that after they’d helped Kane and Sean Rogan last month. She could hide in New Orleans—living with her father wouldn’t be fun, but it would be safe. Until she figured out what to do.
Could she just walk away from Jack’s sister? It wasn’t her problem, but it wasn’t Lucy’s fault that Liam was an idiot. What had he been thinking?
He wasn’t thinking.
Or this was his way to get revenge on his family. It was just so twisted … you never hurt an innocent when you sought vengence. That was a sure path to a living hell.
But Liam hadn’t been in his right mind since he lost the bonds six years ago.
Lost in her thoughts, Gabriella almost walked into Danielle Morrison carrying her baby.
It’s not her baby. She bought it.
Jose had told Gabriella the truth over lunch. He had been unnerved by the information, upset even. But he still wouldn’t leave with her.
Now Gabriella didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t safe here. Jasmine was behaving erratically and she was already suspicious. But could Gabriella leave when an innocent infant was at risk?
Not your problem, Gabriella. You didn’t buy or sell the baby.
“Have you seen Thomas?” Danielle asked.
Gabriella shook her head. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Joshua has a fever. I want to take him to a doctor. All this travel … it’s not good for him.”
Gabriella wanted to slap some sense into the woman. “I thought I heard his voice down the hall.” She pointed toward Jasmine’s wing.
“Thank you.”
Gabriella ran upstairs to her suite. “Jose?”
No answer.
She opened her lingerie drawer and pulled out her secure tablet. Wrote Jack a message, then encrypted it. He was the only one who had the key.
Jasmine is selling Lucy tonight—ten mil to Raymond Reynoso. I’m going into hiding.
She hid her tablet and started packing an overnight bag.
Slow down. You’re acting like a fool.
She took a deep breath, then went about her business as if she were going on a weekend getaway.
“Where are you going?”
She jumped. She hadn’t heard Jose walk in.
“I called for you, you didn’t answer.” She walked over and kissed him.
“Where are you going, Gabriella?” he asked again.
“Remember our talk this morning? I just have a bad feeling—I need to get away. Jasmine hasn’t made any secret that she doesn’t like or trust me. I get it—she’s a paranoid bitch.” She waved away the comment. “I’m sorry. I don’t scare easily, Jose, but she’s beginning to scare me.”
She walked over to him, took his hands. “Come with me, just for the week. You’re tense, you need to relax, too.”
“I told you I can’t go anywhere.” He walked over to her lingerie drawer and opened it.
“What are you doing?”
He held up her tablet. “What’s this?”
“Mine.”
She didn’t make a move for the tablet. She couldn’t let him see that she was terrified.
“Jasmine said you were a spy for Jack Kincaid. I didn’t believe her.”
“I am not anything! We’ve been together for a year, Jose.”
“I didn’t want to believe it, but it’s all been a lie.”
He sat down on the edge of her bed and looked dejected.
“I have never lied to you,” she said. And really, she hadn’t. She hadn’t told
him everything, but she’d never outright lied to him.
“You never told me you had once been engaged.”
Her blood ran cold. “What?”
“Jasmine told me everything. That you were engaged to some US Army soldier and he was killed down here. That you seduced me out of revenge.”
“I didn’t seduce you, Jose.”
“And then I thought, How did we meet? It was by chance … or so I thought. Dom was doing business with your brother. You came. I saw you … you smiled at me. I fell in love with you, Gabriella. I loved you, and you had my entire family killed!”
“That is not true.” I only cared about killing Samuel, the others died because they messed with the Rogans.
“Don’t lie to me anymore!”
“Jasmine is twisting your head. She’s good at that.”
“I didn’t trust her. But … I found this. Why are you sending encrypted emails?”
“To my father. He lives in New Orleans. You know that.”
“Encrypted emails. To your daddy.”
Jose didn’t believe her. He always believed her.
“I saw you leave the office next to Jasmine’s. You came right here, sent a message, and started packing. You heard.”
“Heard what?”
“That Jasmine has a US federal agent in her custody. She told me exactly what you would do if you found out—that you would send a message to whoever you’re working with, and then leave.”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong.”
“I wish I were.”
“I’m going.” She opened the bedroom door. Two thugs stood there. Jasmine was behind them.
“Your lover lasted six days before he died. Six days of constant pain.” Jasmine stepped forward. “You won’t last six hours.”
Gabriella saw red. She tried to grab Jasmine, but the thugs pulled her off and held her down.
“My brothers may all have been fooled by your pretty face, but not me. Not only do I have FBI Agent Lucy Kincaid, I have you. And I’m pretty certain you’ve been in contact with Jack Kincaid, because your poor dead lover was under his command. Boohoo. When I find your brother, he’ll either run away—leaving you to die—or try and rescue you. Honestly? I’ll bet you that Jack Kincaid and Dante Romero will both be here before midnight.
Make Them Pay Page 24