Considering the way those jeans were stretching taut over her hips, he didn’t think the truth was appropriate, so he settled on a half-truth. “A little rough around the edges.”
He watched her rise. Every male hormone in his body jumped to attention when she strode to the hall, where he assumed there was a bathroom. He lay there a moment, ordering his libido to settle down. An instant later the sound of running water reached him and he realized the place had an operable shower.
Silently thanking the MIDNIGHT Agency, he struggled to his feet. The pain in his arm snarled as he made his way to the kitchen and looked in the cabinets for coffee. Sure enough, two packages of instant coffee gleamed up at him like gold.
By the time he’d made two cups, Jess had come out of the shower. Her hair was curly and wet, her cheeks pink. Madrid shoved one of the cups at her, trying not to notice the way that old sweatshirt clung to curves he had absolutely no business noticing.
“Where on earth did you find coffee?” she asked.
“Right next to the protein bars and the camp stove.” Looking into her eyes, he found it easy to smile, even through the pain and the knowledge that he needed a shower.
“Chocolate?”
“Of course.” He handed her one of the bars.
Something warm and uncomfortable fluttered inside him when she smiled back. Damn, she had the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.
Realizing he was doing the one thing he shouldn’t, he crossed to the counter where he’d left the photos he’d confiscated the night before from the Lighthouse Point PD.
“I thought we’d go through this and see if we can figure out what the hell’s going on.” Easing himself into a chair, he spread six photos on the table. “I wish I’d been able to grab more.”
“Kind of hard when someone’s shooting at you.” Jess took the chair next to his and looked at the photos. “What are we looking for?”
“Something that might give us a clue as to where these women are being held.” He wished for the magnification/high resolution software available at MIDNIGHT headquarters, but knew he would have to rely on his naked eye this time around. “Logo on a shirt. License plate number. Street sign.” He sighed. “As far as we know, this may not even be taking place in the United States.”
“But you think these women are ultimately ending up here, right?”
He grimaced. “Yeah.”
They studied the scant evidence spread out before them. After a moment Jess leaned forward and put her finger against one of the photos. “What about this?”
The photo depicted two frightened-looking women with their hands bound behind their backs. Madrid hadn’t been able to discern where they were standing, because the background was blurred. But in the far right-hand corner there was a tiny round porthole. Through the porthole several letters were visible. “X-A-N-A,” he recited.
“What do they mean?”
His heart beat faster. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice this sooner.”
“What is it?”
“Looks like part of the name of a ship.” He glanced over at her.
“The ship where these women are being held?” she asked excitedly.
Tearing his gaze away from her, he focused on the photo. “What we’re seeing is the bow of another ship through the window.”
“How is that going to help us?”
“If I can figure out the full name of the ship, we might be able to find the port where it’s docked.”
“Seems like a big undertaking, considering our resources.”
“It’s a long shot, but we might get lucky.”
The one thing Madrid was sure of was that to do either of those things, he would need to contact the MIDNIGHT Agency. It was something he hadn’t wanted to do again, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He had a sinking suspicion Angela had been onto something a lot bigger than anyone had anticipated.
“Let’s see if Santa left us a cell phone that can’t be traced.”
Jess’s brows went together. “Santa?”
Given that the place was a MIDNIGHT Agency safe house, there was a good chance an untraceable cell phone had been supplied. Madrid began going through the box of supplies Jess had found the night before. Sure enough, buried beneath the bottled water and batteries was a tiny cell phone.
Quickly he punched in the number from memory and waited. Jake Vanderpol answered on the second ring. “Don’t tell me,” he began without preamble. “You need a favor.”
Madrid couldn’t help it; he smiled. “I need a miracle, but a favor will do.”
“Cutter called a meeting yesterday, told us not to help you.”
“I was wondering why you didn’t call me back.”
“Not only has Cutter been a pain about this, but information has been tough to come by. I’m still working on a few things.”
But uncertainty fluttered uncomfortably inside Madrid. “I wouldn’t put you on the spot like this if it wasn’t important.”
A beat of silence, then Jake sighed. “Madrid, you are going to owe me big-time.”
“I need to know the name of the port where a cargo or container ship is docked.”
“U.S.?”
“Probably.”
“What’s the hull number?”
“All I have is a partial name. X-A-N-A.”
“Well, that ought to make it easy,” Jake said dryly.
“How soon can you get it for me?”
“Give me an hour.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Madrid said. He gave him the cell phone number and snapped the phone closed.
JESS LISTENED to the clang of the old water pipes and tried hard not to envision Mike Madrid naked beneath the spray. As far as she was concerned, she’d seen far too much of him the night before when she’d treated his gunshot wound. She told herself she had no desire to see more. But Jess had always been truthful with herself; she wanted to see more of him. A lot more. She just didn’t like the edgy need that engulfed her every time she laid eyes on him. She’d screwed up enough relationships in her lifetime to know anything more than the tentative friendship they’d forged would never work.
She busied herself studying the photos as he showered. She wanted to call Father Matthew to check on Nicolas, but wouldn’t do that without clearing it with Madrid first.
“Jess.”
At the sound of Madrid’s voice she spun around to see him standing in the kitchen doorway. His hair was damp and curling at the ends. Even though he’d had to put on the same shirt and jacket he looked…sexy.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“I was just thinking about Nicolas. I want to call him. Is it safe?”
“As long as we keep it short.” Unclipping the cell phone from his belt, he punched numbers, then put the phone to his ear. “It’s me. Everything okay?” His eyes met Jess’s. “Good. I have someone here who wants to talk to you.”
He passed the phone to her. He smelled of soap and man, and a string of tension wound through her at his closeness.
“Father Matthew?”
“Hello, Jessica. How are you?”
“I’m okay. How’s Nicolas?”
“He’s doing fine. One of the sisters has been spending quite a bit of time with him.” He chuckled. “The boy has a healthy appetite.”
She smiled. A boy’s appetite was such a normal, wonderful thing. She wished she could speak to Nicolas, but didn’t think he would talk on the phone.
“I can’t quite make out the words, but I think he’s trying to say something.”
In the background she could hear Nicolas. “Mah-mah.”
Remembering, Jess closed her eyes. “We think he’s asking for his mother. For Angela.”
The priest made a sound of sympathy. “Poor child.”
“Father Matthew, we think he saw what happened to her.”
“What a terrible thing for a child to see. I’ll do everything I can to give him comfort.”
“Thank you for keeping him fo
r us.”
“My pleasure. Be safe.”
Jess felt better after talking to Father Matthew. At least Nicolas was safe and in good hands. Now, if she and Madrid could find the people responsible for murdering his mother, all of them could get on with their lives. Maybe even find some closure.
Madrid sat at the table, going through the scant evidence they’d managed to smuggle out of the police headquarters the night before. He looked up when she handed him the phone.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Your brother is a lifesaver.”
“He’s saved my ass on a couple of occasions.”
The thought made her smile. The contrast between the two men was stark. Though their physical characteristics were similar, their personalities and lifestyles couldn’t have been more at odds. “You’re lucky to have him.”
He grinned. “He doesn’t think so sometimes.”
She glanced down at the photos spread out on the table. “Did you find anything else?”
“Just the name of the ship. But I think we’re onto something big, Jess. Something dangerous someone doesn’t want exposed.”
“Who?”
“Lighthouse Point PD. We know they’re involved, but we don’t know who.” He grimaced. “They’re not the main players.”
“How do we find out who the main players are?”
He looked at her and frowned. “First of all, there is no ‘we.’”
She frowned back. “I’m involved in this whether you like it or not.”
“What I’d like,” he said, “is for you to go back to the church and stay with Father Matthew.”
It would have been easy to say yes. She was frightened. In the past two days she’d dodged more bullets than most people did in a lifetime. She was worried about Nicolas. Not only was he alone after having so recently lost his mother, but she worried about his safety, too. Nicolas, after all, might have witnessed the murder.
Then Jess remembered Angela’s last request—to keep her son safe—and she knew there was no way she could walk away. She couldn’t bury her head in the sand and hope everything turned out okay. She’d done that too many times in her life and only made things worse.
“I want to finish this,” she said.
He scowled at her. “Things could have turned out a lot worse than they did last night.”
“I’m well aware of the dangers.”
“You have no idea what we’ve walked into or what these people are capable of.”
She glanced down to where the bullet had grazed her arm. “I think I do.”
“Look, Jess, it’s admirable that you want to see Angela’s killers brought to justice. It’s courageous of you to want to be part of it. I can respect that. But you have to be smart about this. The bottom line is you’re not trained to deal with any of this.”
“Don’t even consider trying to talk me out of seeing this through.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’ve already been hurt.” She crossed to him, came within a fraction of an inch of touching him, but pulled back at the last minute. “Lots of people have been hurt. Angela. Nicolas.” She motioned toward the table where the photos were spread out like some cheap magazine spread. “The young women in those photos. How can you expect me to walk away?”
“Because you’re smart. Because you know I’ll handle it.”
“You’re forgetting one thing, Madrid.”
He lifted a brow.
“I made a promise to Angela.”
“She wouldn’t have wanted you to risk your own life to keep it. Damn it, she asked you to look after her son, not get yourself killed.”
“Madrid, these people are not going to stop until he’s dead if Nicolas witnessed Angela’s murder.”
Her own words made her cringe. To think of the innocent little boy being hurt—or worse—made her feel sick inside. But Jess knew this was not the time to mince words. Whatever was going on at the Lighthouse Point PD had to be exposed and stopped.
“I’m going to see this through,” she said. “It’s up to you whether I finish it with you or without you.”
Chapter Ten
Madrid hated waiting, though in the course of his career he’d been forced to do plenty of it. Nor did he like staying in one place too long, especially when some very powerful people would pay a lot of money to see both him and Jess dead. And then there was the matter of his burgeoning feelings for Jess.
The woman was a study in contradictions. Beautiful and headstrong and vulnerable rolled into one very intriguing package. Madrid knew better than to think of her in any terms other than a witness to a crime he needed to solve.
But he did.
He was attracted to her in a way he’d never been attracted to another woman in his life. The chemistry between them was quite simply something he’d never before experienced—and he’d had plenty of experience when it came to matters of the flesh.
Pacing the kitchen, he glanced at his watch for the dozenth time, wondering when Vanderpol was going to call. If he was going to call, a little voice chimed in.
Cutter called a meeting yesterday, told us not to help you…
Jake’s words rang uncomfortably in his ears. Madrid had figured Cutter wouldn’t be happy about his using the MIDNIGHT Agency’s resources. But the way Madrid saw it, if he wanted to get to the bottom of Angela’s murder, he didn’t have a choice.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep up that pacing.”
Madrid glanced up to see Jess in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching him. Attraction tugged hard and low in his gut. It annoyed him. Made him want to do things he knew would only cause them problems later. He figured he had enough problems at the moment without piling on any more.
“It’s been a few hours,” he growled. “Why the hell hasn’t he called?”
She crossed to him, gave him an earnest look that made him think about kissing her. “Maybe he’s waiting for a call back, too. Maybe he’s still gathering information. Maybe he ran into problems and can’t get the information you need.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sick of all these damn maybes.” Frustrated, he turned away and walked over to the counter.
Dread mixed with anticipation roiled inside him when he heard Jess follow. “If your arm is hurting, there are a few more ibuprofen in the first aid kit.”
Madrid gave a curt nod, but he didn’t look at her. The pain in his arm was only a small part of what was eating at him. The truth of the matter was he didn’t like being cooped up with a woman who turned him into a walking hard-on. A woman he could never have because every person he’d ever cared for had met an untimely death. He didn’t want that to happen to Jess.
So why is she here with you now, hotshot?
Because I’m too damn weak to send her away.
“Here.”
He actually started at the sound of her voice. He swung around to see her holding two tablets and a bottle of water. “This will help.”
Judging by the jump of his pulse, he didn’t think so. “Thanks.”
He downed the tablets and was halfway through the water when his cell phone trilled. His gaze went to Jess. She looked back at him, her eyes wide. She crossed her fingers and held them up for him to see.
Madrid unsnapped the cell, saw Vanderpol’s name flicker in the window. “What do you have for me?”
“The only container ship I could find with a name even close to the partial you gave me is the Xanadu Rose.”
“Where?”
“Port of Eureka. Humboldt Bay. California.”
“That’s not far from here.”
“According to shipping records, the ship is docked there right now.”
If the records were reliable, Madrid thought.
“Is this something you’re going to need backup on?” Jake asked.
“As soon as I find the right vessel, I’ll call.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
>
Knowing Jake Vanderpol would do just about anything for his fellow agents, Madrid grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and hit the end button.
Jess was already gathering the photos and first aid kit. “Where?” she asked.
“Port of Eureka. Humboldt Bay.”
“I know where it is.” Her brows went together. “It’s an hour from here. By the time we get there it’ll be dark.”
“Best time of the day for what we have to do.”
“If you don’t mind the rats.”
Madrid picked up the gun, shoved it into his waistband. “Honey, the rats are the least of our worries.”
LIGHTNING FLICKERED to the west as Madrid drove slowly past the massive chain-link gates that opened to the shipyard. Intermittent rain spattered against the dirty asphalt. The wind had picked up, sending the surrounding trees into a frantic dance. Jess couldn’t think of a worse night for an illegal foray into a shipyard.
A guardhouse stood left of the gate. The bright lights inside revealed two uniformed and armed port police officers.
“I guess that rules out making entry the old-fashioned way,” Madrid growled as he sped past.
“So how do we get in?” Jess asked.
“We make our own gate.”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
“Getting in is the easy part.” He looked away from his driving and made eye contact. “Getting out in one piece is going to iffy.”
She liked the sound of that even less.
They had stopped at a discount store and purchased several items before making the drive to Eureka. Bolt cutters. Gloves. Flashlight. Forty feet of rope. A small marine anchor. Disposable camera. A canvas duffel in which to carry everything. Though they were relatively well equipped for the task at hand, Jess thought it was going to take nothing less than a miracle to pull it off.
Madrid parked the car on a muddy road used by a logging company on the north side of the shipyard. The boughs of tall evergreens cloaked them in darkness. On the forest floor, wisps of fog rose like ghostly fingers.
“You up to a walk?”
She glanced over at Madrid. His eyes were sharp and direct in the semidarkness. “I’m up to it,” she said a little breathlessly.
Operation: Midnight Rendezvous Page 10