As the two heads, one straw colored, the other raven black, bent over the sheets of paper, Nick shot a look at Frank, wondering what had climbed up his ass. The big man’s gaze was on the dark head, a look of such hunger in his eyes Nick had to turn away. Fuck, nothing good was going to come of this.
“Holy shit, did you guys notice whose name keeps cropping up? General Baker. He’s a friggin’ four-star General. What the hell is he doing in here? Look at how far back this goes, there’s got to be six years or better. No wonder our boy has stayed under the radar. With this kind of network it’s a wonder we got as close as we did.” Adam’s face lit up with excitement.
“Adam look, it goes right back to before you were shot. I’m betting that’s how they found out about you. No wonder they wanted you out of the way, you were too close. They already knew you were watching Sheridan, so it was only a matter of time before you came up with the fact the General had appointed him there in the first place. I bet if we dig a little deeper we’re going to find out it was probably so that they could set up their trafficking ring with the Iraqis.”
Suddenly Nick remembered the episode at the bar, his gaze shot to the Chief’s to see if he had connected the dots also. Yep, that was affirmative. Crap, they’d been right on top of the ring and hadn’t even comprehended it. His stomach churned. No doubt that was how that poor American girl had ended up there. How many more had been sold into slavery?
After all the shit he’d seen in his life, it still amazed him how depraved people could be, mostly for the sake of power. He wished now he’d done more to help that poor girl, and others like her, instead of turning away from their plight as if they’d brought it on themselves.
“Look here, what’s this Phoenix name that keeps showing up? And there’s several passages mentioning a Guerra. I’d place odds on the fact that’s Ramos Guerra, so called Lieutenant to El Capo of the Sinaloa Cartel. We’ve had dealings with him in the past, remember, Chief?” Jared stabbed his finger on the name, loathing oozing out of his expressive eyes.
“Yeah I remember. He’s as slippery as a snake, into everything from guns to methamphetamine. This is pointing to a very large network. We know the Cartel has affiliates in Africa, France and England. I guess it’s not much of a stretch to assume they would want a piece of the Middle Eastern pie.”
“Obviously our pal Sheridan has been a busy man the last few years. No wonder he was fast-tracked into the U.S. Attorney’s office. It’s not who you know, it’s who you…” Jared brought himself up short, glancing sideways at Agent Holt.
“I believe I’ve heard the term a time or two, Mr. Ford,” she said absently without even looking up, her attention on all the beautiful Intel laid out before them like a banquet. “And you’re right, we always wondered how Sheridan managed to climb the ropes so fast. With friends like this, it’s no wonder.”
It pissed Nick off that Sheridan had gotten away with this shit for so long, even though he’d been under surveillance by Uncle Sam’s supposed elite. Why had no one stopped him before now? Sara shouldn’t have had to endure all that she had if only these guys had stepped up to the plate. Shit, give him a rifle and he’d be more than happy to handle it for them.
“Hey Nick, can you catch the lights? It’s getting a little too dark to read by.” Adam asked, glancing out at the evening sky.
It was getting gloomy out. Checking his watch on the way over to the wall switch, he noted that it was a little after nine. Funny, he’d already spent four months in the tiny town and still felt no urge to head back to the bright lights. He liked the slower pace here, the friendly faces that were no longer strangers, the general feeling of safety, so different from city life.
Crossing the room he stopped at the kitchen sink, ostensibly to grab some H2O, but in actuality he was becoming concerned with Sara’s continued absence. He understood her need to assure her friend she was fine, but still, it shouldn’t take three hours to do that.
He could see lights on over there, and an occasional shadow moving beyond the curtained windows, but that was about it. Maybe he should call her. And that was the crux of the problem right there, after what she’d told him about Sheridan needing to know her every move, he was loath to have her thinking he was the same way.
Maybe he’d wait for another hour or so, and then if she still hadn’t come home, he’d go over and ask for a cup of sugar.
***
“How did you find me?” Sara fell back as Tom pushed his way inside, followed closely by Sam, and then she caught sight of Fiona being led in by two other men. Her friend was cuffed, her arms pulled taut behind her back. Her mouth, covered by a bright red handkerchief tied so tight it cut into her whitened cheeks, highlighted an obscene bruise. Her eyes, one of them black and blue, filled with tears, begging Sara to forgive her.
“GPS, my dear, you’ve heard of that I presume? I traced you from your own phone, that wasn’t very smart of you. So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” He waved the others into the room, locking the door behind them. “What, no kiss for your Husband? You do recall you have one of those, don’t you?”
He looked the same, so tall and handsome standing there in his perfectly pressed suit and tie, not a hair out of place. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. It was so obvious to her now. The narrow, cold eyes, the supercilious attitude, the rigid stance, the not-so-well-hidden-anger, had he always been that way? She didn’t like to think so. How could she have been so wrong about him? He’d pulled the wool over her eyes from the beginning. A shiver skated over her chilled flesh, it hadn’t taken long for his true form to seep through.
“Let her go, Tom. Are you afraid your goons can’t handle two little women?” She spoke loudly, hoping that Tess and Grace would hear her and escape out the back door.
Tom nodded towards his man, his hard stare focused solely on her. “Your little friend has a bit of a problem minding her manners. We had to have a tiny chat. I think she understands much better now, don’t you, my sweet?”
Hatred flared in Fiona’s bright green eyes as she rubbed the circulation back into her wrists and arms, her cheeks a fiery red after their release from bondage. Sara knew her friend well and gave a slight shake of her head, warning her not to stir the pot. She knew from previous, painful, experience Tom was looking for a reason to explode; it was there in every hard line of his face, in his clenched fists. She moved closer, trying to center his attention on her, hoping she could intervene if Fiona didn’t heed her warning.
Placing her hand pleadingly on his linen sleeve, she tried to strike a subservient pose. “Look, Tom, why don’t we sit down and talk this out. We’re all adults here; surely we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement that works for both of us?”
His gaze dropped to where her hand rested against his arm, a softness entering them for a fleeting moment, then he looked up and around Tess’s small cozy living room filled with knick-knacks, handmade doilies and warm, comfortable furniture, and something about the homey atmosphere caused his anger to return. He picked her hand up, carefully inspected the faint smears of blue paint that had not quite faded yet, then squeezed hard enough to bring tears to her eyes before dropping it and turning to Sam. “We’ll be staying here tonight,” causing Sara’s stomach to drop sickeningly, “take a man and check the area. We don’t want any surprises.”
Sam nodded to one of the men holding Fiona, the other dragged her further into the living room and forced her down onto a wooden rocking chair that occupied a coveted spot in front of the red brick fireplace. Sara hoped Tom wouldn’t notice the family pictures on the mantel. In one Tess sat on her flowered sofa flanked by two other women, obviously her sisters, while Ty, two young women and a handsome man in a police uniform stood tall behind them.
But it was the picture on the other end of the mantle that worried her most. A candid shot of Nick, Jessica and herself taken outside in their backyard. Jess was trying to teach Jake to roll over while Nick coached her, laughter shining out of those gorgeous b
lue eyes. The Sara in the picture stared up at him as if he held the secrets to the universe. Not good.
There was no sound from the back of the house. She hoped Tess and Grace had heard her and run for help. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep Tom occupied. Moving past Fiona, she brushed her hand over her shoulder in comfort before seating herself on the edge of the couch, her back up against the wooden arm.
Tom did as she’d hoped and followed her into the room, facing away from the mantle. “Search the house. Make sure that there is no one else. Where is our good friend Nickolaus? I would have expected him to be here, protecting his interests.”
Sara gripped the back of the couch, “He stepped out for milk. Look, it doesn’t matter where Nick is. This is between you and me. Let’s cut the chit chat and get down to business. You have my friend and I have your precious file. We trade and you can go back to that mausoleum you call a house and live happily ever after, without us.”
Anger flared in his eyes, changing swiftly to laughter. He joined her on the sofa, settling excessively close. She almost fell into him as the cushions sagged beneath his weight, before regaining her balance and leaning back hard, the wood digging into her back.
“You’ve developed some attitude while you’ve been away, I like that. It’s so much more enjoyable than sparring with the dishrag you were back home.” He ran his finger down her cheek and goose-bumps broke out over her skin.
She jerked away. “If I was subservient to you then, it was because you left me no choice. My God, Tom, you threatened to harm our daughter. It was bad enough how you treated me, but that was unforgiveable. Surely, you can understand why we had to leave. You changed from the man I married; the man I cared about would never have hurt me the way you did.” Emotion rose up choking her. She thought she’d managed to put all of those feelings behind her, but now they bubbled and boiled inside, an angry brew that threatened to erupt.
Regret showed briefly in his eyes before sliding away. “I wasn’t the only one in that relationship to change. You knew how I felt about children, yet you went about your merry way and got yourself pregnant anyway. I asked that you show decorum as befitting your new lifestyle and forget about your bohemian friends.” He shot a cold look at Fiona and she glared right back, “instead you went out and flaunted your relationship all over town, making me look like I couldn’t even control my own wife. That, my love, was unforgiveable.”
Misunderstandings, their whole marriage had been nothing but a series of ever-growing misunderstandings. She wished now she’d paid more attention to the signs that were now obvious to her. Sara remembered trying to talk to him about getting pregnant but he’d always turned the conversation to something else, or said he had to get to work, they could talk later. And she’d wanted a baby to love so badly, she’d gone blithely ahead, without waiting for him to be ready.
Guilt filled her. That had been wrong. Her own culpability in the breakdown of her marriage was a hard pill to swallow. She should not have presumed such an important decision without him. But she would never be able to forgive him for everything that went wrong afterward.
“Look, this is getting us nowhere. Why don’t you agree to give me custody of Jessica, leave Fiona here, and you can have that file with my blessing. We can finish this now and you can be back in Boston by tomorrow. Come on, Tom, let’s end our relationship amicably.”
In the background she listened as Tom’s man did a sweep of the house. He was in one of the bedrooms at the moment. She needed to give Nick time to come up with a plan. It was only a matter of time before he brought something of Tess’s to Tom’s attention. She didn’t want him realizing this wasn’t her house. All thoughts of handling this on her own had gone by the wayside the moment Tom arrived with Sam and the others. Sara had a feeling she and Fiona were on borrowed time, she’d noticed the distinct outline of a shoulder holster on the man searching the house, which meant the others were probably carrying also. That file was a flimsy shield, especially against potential bullets.
Tom had risen and was pacing the room, agitation in every step. He moved to the side of the curtained window. Giving them a hard stare that dared them to rise from their seats, he pushed the linen aside to scan the dark yard before letting it fall back in place.
The hit man as she called him, due to his flat black eyes and expressionless face, re-entered the room carrying what she could only describe as a granny dress over one thick forearm, the blue floral material looking rather incongruous against his muscled chest. He held it aloft for his boss to see and it was more than apparent it wasn’t hers. While not exactly frumpy, it was definitely old fashioned, with a big crocheted collar and trim.
“I can explain…”
The front door slammed open, causing both women to jump, and Sam came in at a run dragging Grace behind him like a sack of potatoes.
“Grace!” Sara leapt from the sofa and raced over to the older woman, catching her as Sam pushed her away.
“Who the Hell is that? What’s going on, where’s Brad?” Tom barked over the sound of the slamming door and Sara’s cry.
“We found her and another old hag trying to slip through the back fence. The other one set up such a racket when we grabbed them that some asshole came along and clipped Brad against the side of the head, he went down like a ton of bricks and I got the fuck out of there.”
“Cut the lights.” Sam reached out and hit the switch casting them all into dark shadows. “Did you get a look at the guy?”
“Not really, just an impression of height and agility, the fucker was fast on his feet. We never even saw him coming until it was too Goddamn late.”
“Grace, are you okay? God, I’m so sorry,” Sara whispered, “was it Nick?” She carefully checked the older woman by touch, all but blinded in the sudden darkness.
“Sara, where are you? I can’t see a blessed thing.” Fiona’s voice rose when she tripped over the two of them crouched on the floor near the fireplace, “Ouch!”
“Ssh, we’re right here.” She grabbed Fiona’s hand where it had landed on top her head, pulling her down with them. “It’s okay, Nick’s out there. We need to stay calm and be ready.”
Grace’s voice trembled in the gloom, “Tess and I couldn’t believe it when we heard you warning us. I wanted to stay, but Tess convinced me our best bet to help you was to get ourselves next door. We almost made it too, you’d be so proud of Tess, she put up such a fuss when those beastly men grabbed us I’m surprised the whole neighborhood didn’t show up.” Her body shook and her arms quivered in Sara’s hands.
She squinted through the darkness, trying to discern where the other three were. They’d gone silent, which worried her. She was scared Nick would make some grand entry to save them and get himself shot.
Suddenly, from much closer than she expected, “Spread out, we have company out there.” Tom’s harsh whisper came from about three feet to her right. She gently pressed her friends’ arms, warning them to be silent.
Stretching out her hand, she touched the poker she’d remembered seeing earlier and lifted it towards them, cringing as it scraped slightly against the brick hearth.
“What was that?” From hit-man, his voice sounding queer as it echoed down the hall giving away his position, the kitchen.
“I didn’t hear anything.” Sam’s voice, coming from the back bedroom.
“Would you two idiots like to send out party invitations? KEEP IT DOWN!” Tom’s harsh whisper reverberated through the old house, causing a frightened gasp from Grace. Sara squeezed her arm again in comfort, at the same time she lifted the poker and set it down in Grace’s lap, showing her by touch what she was holding. At least she would have some kind of protection if things went sideways, it was the best she could come up with, for now.
“Look, Tom, let’s keep things simple. I’ll give you the file, and you can take your friends and leave, okay?” She tried to sound firm but a tremor made her words come out with a distinct tremble instead.
&nb
sp; “What’s wrong, my dear, are you afraid I might hurt your lover?” Sarcasm dripped from the words, and she knew this was not about the file anymore, she had tweaked his male pride.
“It’s no wonder Sara left you, you arrogant jerk. If she’s managed to find herself someone good and decent then hooray for her. Why don’t you move on, go and scare some other poor chumps and leave us the hell alone.” Fiona had contained herself for as long as she could; now her very redheaded temper came spewing forth in a venomous cloud of loathing.
“Fiona, you’re not helping matters, please.” She pleaded with her friend to not escalate an already volatile situation.
“I see something.” Hit-man’s calm voice again, as if this were a day at the park.
“Yeah, me to. I’ve got at least three bogey’s out here.” Sam, much more excited, a day at the park with fairgrounds.
Then, out of the darkness, a voice Sara feared hearing, but had desperately hoped for at the same time. “Let them go, Sheridan. I have what you’ve come for. If you want it, let them out.”
Her heart leapt into her throat, as if it could break the bonds that held it to fly straight into his safe arms. Nick. She was so relieved he was out there, but at the same time so very frightened. She had to warn him. “They have guns. There’s three and they have…” She screeched as a rough hand grabbed her by the hair and wrenched her to her feet.
“You fucking little bitch. You couldn’t just sit there and keep your dumb trap shut, could you.” She felt like a rag doll as he shook her before pulling her around in front of him. The other hand, the one holding a FREAKING GUN, went around her neck in a chokehold that threatened to cut off all her air supply.
Grace and Fiona screamed at him to let her go, beginning to rise up after them. Tom changed gun hands and fired, once, twice, hitting the wall behind them, plaster and glass flying everywhere as one of the pictures crashed to the floor. “Hold. Still. Just fucking hold still. The next time I won’t miss.”
Tidal Falls (Wounded Hearts Book 1) Page 21