Shotgun Daddy

by Harper Allen

  “Bravo, Riggs.” The metallic voice was back on the line, and this time Caro thought she heard a touch of mockery beneath his words. “Bravo. You’ve proven you’re a professional and not about to take my word for anything. Satisfied?”

  “That it’s Jess, and he’s still alive? Yeah, I’m satisfied,” Gabe said evenly. “What are your terms, Leo?”

  “Five million in bearer bonds if we can finalize this within forty-eight hours. The price goes up considerably if you need more time.”

  “Two million and you get it tonight at a handover point of your choice.” Gabe’s reply was flat. “Take it, Leo. You know I won’t be able to get the authorities involved in an ambush at such short notice, so it’s a deal you shouldn’t pass up.”

  “Three million.”

  The technician stiffened. Touching Gabe on the arm, he nodded toward the screen in front of him and gave a thumbs-up. Following Gabe’s gaze, Caro saw that the scrolling lines of numbers on Jackson’s monitor had been replaced by a single ten-digit one, accompanied by a street address and the city location of Tijuana. Gabe nodded, started to switch his attention back to the phone, and stopped.

  The scrolling numbers had reappeared. They were replaced again, this time by another number and a highlighted address in—

  Caro stared at the monitor, confused. Oshawa, Canada? Surely that couldn’t be right. She blinked as a third number and city came up on the screen.

  Jackson slumped back in his chair, shaking his head in defeat.

  Gabe kept his voice even. “Three million in bearer bonds. When and where?”

  “In an hour, where the road takes a curve at the fifteen-mile mark from the villa,” came the succinct answer. “And Riggs—just you, Dixon and the woman Crawford mentioned. She’s his fiancée, I understand. Not that I think you’re amateur enough to be considering a double cross of me and my people, but with a woman present, I know you won’t take risks.”

  “You’re damn right I won’t risk the woman. She’s not—” Gabe began, but the kidnapper cut him off.

  “That part’s nonnegotiable, negotiator. If she doesn’t show, your friend Jess ends up the way Leo Roswell did.”

  Abruptly the line went dead.

  Kanin’s excited voice was the first to break the silence. “Did we find out where the bastard was calling from?”

  Jackson shook his head in frustration. “He had some kind of scrambling device that was way beyond anything I’ve ever come up against before. And his voiceprint was fed through a filter.”

  “He’s arrogant.” Gabe flexed his shoulders, and Caro heard a tendon pop. “That’s useful to know.”

  “He was taunting you, wasn’t he?” she said, watching him closely. “That’s why he chose the name Leo—to show you he knew what happened on your last case.”

  “Which doesn’t mean squat,” Kanin said loudly. “For God’s sake, Rosten’s death was front-page news at the time.”

  “Roswell, Larry. Leo Roswell.” Gabe looked at Caro, his gaze holding nothing more than professional assessment. “Yeah, he was taunting me. But his attitude just might trip him up and lead to his capture.”

  “You really think that’s possible?” Dixon’s tone was eager. “Dammit, man, if you can somehow foil these bastards, Crawford Solutions’ll owe you big time. The ransom’s coming out of the company’s own pockets, you know. Since Jess never used bodyguards, the insurance companies refused to cover him for this kind of contingency. What are you planning?”

  “I’m planning to hand over the three million in bearer bonds Caro informed me earlier today was on hand,” Gabe said. “I’m planning to get Jess back home safely. I’m not planning to do anything—anything, understand?—that could get him or anyone else killed.”

  He rubbed his jaw, and again Caro glimpsed tension behind his gesture. “Jess’s abductors are going to be pissed off enough as it is when you and I show up alone, Dixon—but that can’t be helped.”

  “Leo said my presence at the handover was nonnegotiable,” she interjected. “If Jess’s safe return hinges on my being there, I intend—”

  “I don’t give a damn about your intentions, you’re not going,” Gabe said. “And that’s nonnegotiable.”

  “Then you’re off this case.” She held his gaze, hoping she was half as good as he was at concealing tenseness. “I hired you, and if you force me to, I can fire you.”

  His expression hardened. “Like I said earlier, handovers never go according to plan. If one of those thugs gets spooked, all hell could break loose within a matter of seconds.”

  “And me not showing up could be the very thing that spooks them,” Caro countered. “I mean it, Gabe. I go along on the handover or you’re off the negotiation. I owe Jess that much.”

  “No offense, Riggs, but I can’t say I’m sorry Caro’s finally seen the light.” Dixon turned to Kanin. “You’ve got, what, Larry—ten men available? Couldn’t we wait until they spring Jess and then surround the scumbags?”

  Kanin nodded judiciously. “I think it’s—”

  “You win.”

  Ignoring everyone else, Gabe covered the few feet between him and Caro with a stride. She looked up into his face as his grip bit into her shoulders, and felt a moment’s apprehension at the spark of anger in his gaze.

  “But you knew you would, didn’t you, princess,” he said, his tone pitched for her ears only. “From the moment we first met you’ve counted on always getting what you want from me—whether it’s a ride to Aspen, one last hostage negotiating job, or going against my instincts and taking you along on a handover.”

  His smile was tight. “You should know that I’ve got a limit where you’re concerned, Caro. Do you get me, princess?”

  He was so close to her that as he spoke the warmth of his breath touched the corners of Caro’s lips. The apprehension she’d been feeling was cancelled out by another emotion.

  Gabe Riggs didn’t answer to any man anymore, she realized shakily. Where once his power had seemed kept on a firm leash, sometime during his self-imposed isolation that leash had been gnawed through and discarded forever.

  He was more dangerous than she’d thought. And she was less able to resist his dangerous appeal than she’d so rashly promised herself she would be.

  She felt herself sway an infinitesimal distance toward him. The air around them seemed suddenly heavy. Slow heat suffused her and she felt the warmth of faint color touch her cheeks.

  “I get you, Gabriel,” she said, her tone as barely audible as his had been. “But how am I going to know when you’ve reached that limit?”

  The amber eyes watching her blinked. The hard grip on her shoulders slid fractionally down her arms and then stopped. Today when she’d confronted him under the merciless desert sun, the man hadn’t seemed to notice the temperature or to be bothered by her unexpected appearance, she thought—but Gabe Riggs was bothered now.

  And she could tell by just looking at him that he was feeling the same sudden heat that she was.

  He released her.

  “You won’t. You’ll just know when you’ve pushed me past it,” he said tonelessly. He turned away, his jaw rigid.

  “The clock’s ticking, princess. Let’s go save the man you’re going to marry.”

  Chapter Four

  “What time is it?”

  Steve had asked that same question twice already in the past half hour, Caro thought edgily, but Gabe, beside her in the driver’s seat of the stationary sports utility, betrayed no impatience at having to answer him yet again. He glanced at his watch, pressing a button on the side of its dial as he did.

  “Ten-thirty.” The faint phosphorescence that had momentarily lit up the watch face faded. He switched his attention back to the blackness of the night. “Yeah, they were supposed to show up half an hour ago, Dixon, but don’t start imagining the worst. From my reading of Leo’s character, I’d guess he’s making us wait on purpose.”

  “To prove he’s the one calling the shots in this s
ituation?” From the back seat Steve gave an angry snort. “I’ve got news for you, Riggs. He is, dammit. The bastard’s got us all dancing to his tune, and I for one don’t like it. Larry thinks Leo and his gang are probably no more than street punks who saw a chance to snatch a careless Americano businessman, and I don’t mind telling you, it galls me that someone in my position should have to knuckle under to nobodies like that.”

  Caro had heard enough. She twisted around to face the Crawford Solutions vice president. “So what do you propose, Steve? That we drive off just to prove your point? Nobodies or not, these thugs have Jess, and until he’s out of danger I’d say that gives them every right to call whatever shots they want.” Her voice shook on the final few words and swiftly she faced forward in her seat again, fighting to keep her ragged emotions under control.

  She felt rather than saw Gabe direct a glance her way before he spoke, his tone brooking no argument. “The lady’s right, Dixon. If Jess’s kidnappers want to play a few head games with us before they release him, we let them. Abductions are never just about the money, they’re about control—who’s got it, who wants it, and who’s willing to relinquish it.”

  “Then, why did you baulk at paying the price Leo asked?” Steve asked. “Not that I don’t appreciate you getting the final sum down a couple million, but with Jess such a pal of yours it seems more than a little callous of you to have haggled so closely over his ransom, Riggs.”

  Steve could be pompous at times, Caro told herself, and he had a keen eye for the bottom line that had sometimes placed him at odds with his easier-going boss, but a cut like the one he’d just delivered was more Larry’s style than his own. She had the sudden conviction that while she and Gabe had been collecting the suitcase of bearer bonds from the villa’s safe before leaving for this rendezvous with Jess’s abductors, Larry had seized the opportunity to further erode Dixon’s confidence in Gabe. From Gabe’s closed expression it appeared he’d come to the same conclusion.

  “Two points, Dixon,” he said tersely, his gaze fixed on the empty road ahead. “One, my job description reads ‘hostage negotiator.’ I negotiated with Leo over the price because if I hadn’t he would have figured he’d asked for too little in the first place, and that might have convinced him that handing a valuable hostage over so easily would be a mistake. I said it was about control. I didn’t say it was about rolling over to a kidnapper’s every demand.”

  “Like I said, I’m not complaining—” Dixon muttered, but Gabe went on before he could finish.

  “My second point is this—Kanin’s dead wrong about these people being no more than street thugs. Street thugs wouldn’t have the kind of sophisticated scrambling devices that bypassed Jackson’s tracing equipment, or the filter that made it impossible to get an identifiable print from Leo’s voice.”

  “So you’re saying Jess’s situation is even worse than it could be,” Dixon said, the bluster draining from his tone. “Punks lucking into a big score would be preferable to a well-organized group of professionals who’ve covered all the bases.”

  “Hell, no.” Gabe’s reply was swift. “Professionals can be counted on not to let their emotions get in the way of doing business. It’s the amateurs and cowboys who make me nerv—”

  He stopped in midsentence. Dixon started to say something, but Gabe’s uplifted palm silenced him.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t hear or see what had alerted the big man beside her, as in vain she focused her vision on the dark road. But she had no doubt that his sudden tenseness was justified. During the hours she’d been with Gabriel Riggs today she’d realized that his sojourn in the desert had sharpened senses already well-honed, as evidenced by his instantaneous reaction to the threat of the rattler.

  Her senses had been heightened, too, she thought, although not in any way that was proving useful. The opposite, in fact. Even at a time like this, all she seemed to be able to concentrate on was Gabe’s nearness, his tone of voice, his slightest move.

  For heaven’s sake, you’re actually inhaling the scent of the man. It’s just plain soap and water, but you’re breathing it in as if it’s pure oxygen and you can’t get enough of it, she told herself in frustration.

  Which was stupid—no, more than stupid, irresponsible. They were here to save the man she’d decided to marry. She should be concentrating on Jess and the matter at hand.

  Except, she didn’t want to—no more than Dixon, with his needling and his nervous checking of the time, wanted to concentrate on the reason why they were waiting by the side of a pitch-dark road in the middle of nowhere. If everything went as planned, within moments they would be face-to-face with the mysterious Leo and his crew. Professionals or not, Jess’s kidnappers were cold-blooded enough to have put a price on a man’s life, and as Gabe had warned on the drive here, one wrong move during the handover could not only sign their hostage’s death warrant but place everyone’s life in jeopardy.

  He was right not to want me to come. A wave of apprehension washed over her. I shouldn’t be here. No matter what I owe Jess, my first priority should have been Emily. As her mother, I never should have put myself in a situation like—

  “That little daughter of yours,” Gabe said without looking at her. “What did you say her name was?”

  Even as he spoke Caro heard the faint rumble of what sounded like a vehicle approaching, although the bend in the road in front of the sports utility meant the only visible indication was a slight lessening of the blackness, as if faraway headlights were cutting through the night. She smoothed damp palms on the linen slacks she’d changed into earlier.

  “Emily,” she replied tensely. “Why?”

  He ignored the question, his gaze, like hers, fixed on the telltale brightness chasing away more of the shadows ahead of them. “Emily,” he repeated, his tone too low to be heard by Dixon in the back seat. “Okay, so when you get back home tonight and look in on Emily, whether she’s sleeping or not, you tell her Gabe Riggs made her a vow tonight. You tell her I promised her nothing was going to happen to her mule-headed mother during this handover. You think you can remember to do that?”

  A moment ago the last thing she’d have thought herself capable of was laughter. A surprised little hiccup escaped her. Caro cast a grateful look at his expressionless profile.

  “I’ll remember,” she said unevenly. “And Gabe— I’m sorry I fought you on this. I hired you because of your expertise in this kind of thing, and then I went over your head and insisted on coming along. You’ve got every right to be mad at me.”

  “More than just mad, dammit,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “I figure I’ve got every right to want to tan that sweet backside of yours when we get back to the Lazy J, but I suppose if I tried, you’d crack me a good one across the chops like you did once before, right?”

  Just for a moment he glanced sideways toward her, and suddenly Caro found her shakiness had absolutely nothing to do with the approaching headlights.

  Maybe if she hadn’t had him, she told herself faintly, taking in the hard line of his jaw, the coppery gleam of his tanned skin in the glow of the instrument panel, the wry lift at the corner of his lips. Maybe if she had no idea what she was missing, she wouldn’t feel this insane hunger for the man. Or maybe it wouldn’t make any difference at all to the way she felt when she looked at him.

  Hunger was a good word for what she was feeling. So was heat. So was weakness, and weakly she gave in to a reckless impulse.

  “I don’t know,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “I can think of certain circumstances where I just might indulge you in that particular little fantasy, Gabe.”

  Even with the inadequate illumination she saw his eyes briefly widen and then narrow at her.

  “I wish you didn’t like playing with fire so much, princess,” he said softly. “Especially since everytime you do, I’m the one who ends up getting burned.”

  He switched his attention back to the road, and although there was no more sp
ace between them than there had been a second ago, with the abrupt action he seemed to distance himself from her. He frowned at the now brilliant swaths of light cutting through the darkness.

  “Do me a favor?” he asked curtly.

  If the recklessness that had possessed her hadn’t already ebbed away and been replaced by cold sanity, Caro thought, his attitude would have doused it. She swallowed and nodded. “Of course,” she managed to say, hoping her own voice sounded as detached as his. “What do you need me to do?”

  “When we get your fiancé back, insist on a fast wedding and don’t bother inviting me, no matter what my old buddy Jess says.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, still without taking his attention from the road. “Somehow I don’t think I can totally trust myself not to give in to the urge to play with fire, too, where you’re concerned. And like I said, someone’s bound to get burned.”

  Even if she’d been able to muster a reply, she didn’t get the chance. Her lips still parted in disconcertion at his admission, she saw twin headlights rounding the bend in the road up ahead and blaze blindingly toward them. Instinctively she turned away, shielding her eyes from the sudden glare, and noticed Dixon’s arm come up in a similarly startled gesture.

  Gabe’s reaction was the only one that brought results. Unhurriedly he reached toward the instrument panel and turned on the SUV’s high-beams. As soon as he did, the approaching vehicle dimmed its own.

  “We went over everything on the drive here, so you both know what’s expected,” he said calmly. “Dixon, take your cues from me, not the kidnappers. Caro, you stay near the car unless I specifically tell you different. And if anything happens to me, I want the two of you to get the hell out of here and away from these bastards by whatever means possible, understood?”

  “Understood,” Dixon said quickly. “But what if—”

  “There aren’t any what-if’s,” Gabe overrode him, reaching for the door handle as the other vehicle came to a stop at an angle in front of them, effectively blocking the road. “I go down, you two leave me here. That’s an order.”