Summer Vows (Arabesque)

by Alers, Rochelle

  Basil stared at his younger brother. They looked nothing alike, but blood ran deep between them. He’d stomped a man to death for stealing from him, and it was Webb who’d confessed to the crime. Webb, only fifteen at the time, was tried as an adult, and pled guilty to involuntary manslaughter; he spent three years in a juvenile facility before being transferred to minimum-security prison for the next ten years. Webb earned a high school diploma and, once paroled, he’d enrolled in college and had graduated with a degree in computer science.

  “I won’t be involved,” Webb said softly. “I know someone who would be perfect for this project.”

  Basil sat down on a leather love seat, knees spread apart. Webb was the epitome of a successful businessman with his conservative haircut, tailored suit, custom-made shirt, silk tie and imported footwear. He’d repaid his brother ten-fold when he’d given him enough money to start up his own security company that created and sold state-of-the art surveillance equipment.

  “Let me think about it. My man said he’s going to wait a while before he begins hunting again.”

  The dark brown eyes in an equally dark face flattened. “Do you have an idea who told that reporter that you had threatened Ana Cole?”

  Basil shook his head. He knew who it was, but he couldn’t tell Webb.

  Webb pulled his lower lip between his teeth. “What if it was someone from Slow Wyne?”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Are you sure, brother?”

  Running a hand over his shaved head, Basil chuckled under his breath. “I’m willing to bet our mama’s life on it.”

  “Intimidation doesn’t work on everyone.”

  Leaning lower, Basil rested his elbows on his knees. “There’s only one person who knows what went down when I was trying to get Justin Glover to sign with Slow Wyne, and that is Omar Thornton.”

  “Watch him, Basil.”

  “Omar is trustworthy.”

  “I can find out how trustworthy he is if you let me bug his house.”

  Basil sat up straight. “What the hell are you saying, Webb?”

  “Send him away on a business trip for a few days and my people will bug his house and phones. After a while you’ll discover how trustworthy he is.”

  “You’re paranoid.”

  “I am careful and thorough, Basil. I’m just trying to protect your reputation. I didn’t do a bid for you to screw up because you’re pissed off at a little girl who managed to get the best of you.”

  “She is not a little girl,” Basil said between clenched teeth. “She’s a shark masquerading as a piranha.”

  Throwing back his head, Webb laughed loudly. He sobered when he saw Basil’s expression. “Do you want Justin Glover?”

  “What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I want him.”

  “I can get him for you, big brother.”

  The buzz of the intercom preempted Basil’s reply. “Excuse me, but I have to get that.” He stood up, walked over to his desk and punched a button on the telephone console. “Yes, Camille.”

  “Mr. Edwards’s secretary just called to say he’s on his way.”

  “Thanks.” When he turned around Basil realized he was alone. Webb had left. He didn’t want his brother to do anything that could send him back to jail. The person he’d hired to kill Ana Cole had shot the wrong Cole. However, the hired gun vowed Ana Cole was as good as dead.

  * * *

  Jacob Jones maneuvered up to curbside at the Marathon airport, showed his shield and photo ID to the man who came over to the driver’s side window. The officer’s eyes shifted from the official photograph to the man with a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead. He took a step closer, glancing into the open window to see the holstered automatic weapon where his right hand rested on his thigh.

  “I’m on the job,” Jacob explained. “My party is on the ground and should be here in a few minutes,” he said to the police officer. What he wanted to tell the man was that he wasn’t officially on the job, but what he had agreed to do was akin to witness protection. The difference was Ana Cole wasn’t a witness to a crime, but the intended target of a sniper with possible ties to the military.

  “No problem, Marshal Jones. You have a good afternoon.”

  Jacob smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”

  When he’d gotten up earlier that morning he never would’ve expected a call from Diego Cole-Thomas asking whether he’d be willing to protect his cousin. It was the second day of a well-deserved eight-week vacation and Jacob planned to do nothing more than sleep late, fish, cook his catch and view several new movies in his extensive DVD collection.

  Diego had also filled him in on the details of the shooting that had put Dr. Tyler Cole in the hospital with a chest wound. He wanted to refuse his friend’s request, but couldn’t because he was godfather to Diego’s son.

  He also wasn’t looking forward to sharing his home with any woman. Whenever a woman crossed his threshold their stay was usually limited to a few days. One had been fortunate to stay for an extended two weeks, but anything beyond that had him formulating excuses to prepare them for their departure.

  The week before he’d received an official memo mandating he take a vacation. Jacob couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually taken time off just to kick back and relax. He’d bought the house in Long Key as a retreat, a sort of safe haven where he could go and forget about the prisoners housed in the Miami federal detention centers. He’d been promoted from the field to a desk position and it wasn’t until he walked out of his office and drove south to the Keys had he realized how much he did need a vacation.

  He spied Diego coming out of the terminal, his driver and bodyguard pushing a cart with designer luggage. His gaze shifted to the woman holding Diego’s hand, recognizing her immediately. The first time he saw Ana was at Diego and Vivienne Neal’s wedding, and then again at the baptism celebration for their son. It was apparent she and the man who’d come with her to the celebration following the baptism hadn’t been seeing eye-to-eye because Ana had refused to talk to or even look at him.

  There was something about the expression on the petite dark-haired woman’s face that communicated to Jacob that she hadn’t come willingly. Well, he thought, as he got out of his vehicle, the feeling was definitely mutual. He wanted to dictate where and how he wanted to spend the next two months of his life without having to consider another person. But, he’d promised his friend he would look after his cousin, and for Jacob, if he gave his word then he always followed through.

  Adjusting the hem of the Hawaiian-print shirt to conceal the firearm, he walked over to Diego, who’d released Ana’s hand. They shook hands and pounded each other’s backs in a rough hug. He hadn’t seen the CEO of ColeDiz in more than three months, and the first thing he noticed was he’d claimed a bit more gray hair.

  “How’s it going, buddy?”

  “It’s all good,” Diego answered.

  “How’s the family?”

  “They’re good. Vivienne’s been asking about you.”

  “I’d planned to take a few days off and come up to see you guys, but that was before you called me.”

  Diego put his arm around Ana’s waist. “Ana, do you remember Jacob? He came to my wedding and the baptism.”

  She stared at the tall man in the gaudy shirt and tattered Miami Dolphins cap. Her gaze went from his face down to his jeans and worn sandals before reversing to linger on his face. He wasn’t what she would co
nsider handsome; nonetheless he was attractive in a masculine sort of way despite his tacky shirt and ragged hat. His dark eyes in a face the color of golden-brown autumn leaves were mesmerizing.

  “Yes, I do remember him.”

  What she meant was she’d remembered him from the baptism, but not the wedding. Then he’d worn a tailored suit and shoes. But that was all she’d recalled because the man who’d come with her to the soiree that followed the sacrament at the church had made it his intent to put pressure on her to take their friendship to the next level. What he hadn’t realized was that there was no next level, but that hadn’t stopped him from reacting like a spoiled child when she’d told him it was to become their last date.

  Jacob extended his hand, palm up. “And I remember you.” He wasn’t disappointed when she placed her tiny hand on his, he giving her fingers a gentle squeeze before he released them. He nodded to the taciturn driver/bodyguard who’d removed his sunglasses and wiped his face and sable-brown shaved head with a snow-white handkerchief. Despite the heat Henri wore a black suit, tie and white shirt. He hadn’t removed his jacket, and Jacob knew the man always carried a concealed handgun whenever he traveled with Diego.

  “Hello, Henri.”

  “Mr. Jones.”

  Pressing a button on the fob to the Jeep, the hatch lifted as Henri carried Ana’s bags to the SUV, then returned to assist her up onto the passenger seat. “I’ll take good care of her,” Jacob promised Diego.

  “I know you will.” He leaned closer. “She’s not too happy about this.”

  “She’ll get over it.”

  Diego’s eyebrows lifted as he stared at his cousin sitting in the vehicle. She was so still she could’ve been made of stone. “I’ll call you with updates.”

  “I hope it won’t take too long to catch the bastard. By the way, how’s Tyler?”

  “He’ll be released tomorrow. He’s going to stay in West Palm until he’s cleared to fly. His wife and children are here, so there’s no need for him to worry about rushing back to Mississippi.”

  Jacob rested a hand on Diego’s shoulder. “I know you have your people on this, but tell them to concentrate on rogue professional snipers, former-military or even SWAT.”

  “We’re going to find him, Jacob, and hopefully there’ll be something left to prosecute.” Diego saw Henri tap the face of his watch out of the corner of his eye. “I have to leave because we’ve been cleared for takeoff. I’ll call you later on in the week to check on Ana.”

  Jacob smiled. “Have a safe flight.” He knew as soon as the wheels were up that within minutes the Gulfstream Aerospace Corporation G550 would prepare to touchdown in West Palm Beach.

  Turning on his heels, he walked to the Jeep and slid in behind the wheel next to Ana. The hauntingly sensual, subtle scent of perfume filled the interior of the vehicle. Sitting less than a foot away from her made him aware of things he hadn’t noticed or had forgotten the last time they’d met.

  He’d thought she was taller, her body fuller. And he’d remembered her hair was longer than it was now. However, the pixie hairstyle was perfect for her face, showing off her exquisite bone structure. “Do you have a cell phone on you?”

  Ana turned to look at Jacob, her gaze fixed on the shape of his mouth. She hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, but he had the sexiest mouth of any man she’d ever seen. The top lip was firm, the lower fuller, sensual. “Yes. Why?”

  He held out his right hand. “Please give it to me.”

  “Why?” she asked again.

  “I’ll tell you after you give it to me.”

  Reaching into her leather handbag, she took out the BlackBerry, placing it on his outstretched palm. “Now tell me.”

  “You are not to use your cell as long as you’re here. If you need to make a call, then you can use the one in my house or my cell. Are you carrying any credit cards?”

  Ana blinked as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was no doubt Jacob wanted her to turn her credit cards over to him. “Yes. I suppose you want those, too.”

  “I do.”

  She gave him the case with her cards. “What if I need to buy something?”

  A hint of a smile tilted the corners of Jacob’s mouth. “I don’t know what that could be, because it appears as if you brought your entire wardrobe.” The back of the truck was filled with at least half a dozen bags. Her eyes narrowed, reminding him of a cat’s.

  “I wasn’t talking about clothes, Mr. Jones.” She’d spat out his name.

  “It’s either Jake or Jacob. The choice is yours.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Jacob. What if I need to buy something?” Ana asked again.

  “I’ll buy it for you.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “Your father can reimburse me when this is over.”

  “And I hope that’s real soon,” she said under her breath, “and I will reimburse you, not my father. He stopped paying my bills years ago.” She’d come into her trust at twenty-five and therefore had become independently wealthy.

  Jacob saw the stubborn set of her delicate jaw. “This isn’t a walk in the park for me, either. When I put in for vacation I didn’t expect to share it with someone who didn’t want to share it with me.”

  Shifting on the leather seat, Ana gave him a lengthy stare. “I’m sorry if the attempt on my life threw a monkey wrench into your plans. And tell your girlfriend that I’ll give her a gift card so she can buy something real nice to compensate for me taking up her boyfriend’s time.”

  Throwing back his head, Jacob laughed loudly, the sound reverberating inside the SUV. “Do you really believe that all you have to do is write a check and make it okay? Money isn’t the cure-all for everything in one’s life,” he added.

  “Are you telling me your girlfriend would refuse a no-strings-attached gift?”

  “I’m certain she would if I had a girlfriend. I happen not to like women who are fixated on money, because as a government worker I’ll never make the Forbes list of the wealthiest people in America.”

  Punching the Start Engine button, Jacob signaled and then smoothly maneuvered away from the curb. Reaching for the sunglasses on the console, he placed them on the bridge of his nose as he followed the signs for the airport exit.

  “You didn’t answer my question, Jacob,” Ana said when he headed north.

  “What’s that?”

  “Why did you take my phone and credit cards?”

  “The plan is for you to disappear.”

  Her eyes were wide behind the lenses of her oversize sunglasses. “Like in the Witness Protection Program?”

  Jacob nodded. “Exactly. And you’re not to use the internet. Without your cell and credit cards it will make it difficult for someone to track your whereabouts. It will be the same with your car parked in the reserved spot at your condo. Even if someone decided to fit it with a tracking device they’ll be disappointed because it won’t be moved for weeks.”

  “I live in a gated community.”

  “That may be a slight deterrent, but it’s still penetrable. What makes you think your condo’s security can’t be compromised?”

  She exhaled a soft breath. “I didn’t think of that.” A comfortable silence ensued, Ana staring through the windshield at the Atlantic Ocean on the right of the highway and the Gulf on the left. “And you think I’ll be safe here in the Keys?”

  Jacob took a quick glance at the woman who unknowingly had set into motion a private wa
r that was certain to end in casualties, while he’d pledged Diego that his cousin would not become one of the victims. “You’ll be safe with me.”

  “You sound very confident, Jacob.”

  He smiled, exhibiting a mouth filled with straight white teeth. “I am not a neophyte when it comes to protecting witnesses.”

  “I’m not a witness, because I didn’t see who shot Tyler,” Ana argued in a quiet voice. “One minute I was standing talking to him, and then the next second he was on the ground bleeding from a chest wound.”

  “Tyler’s lucky that bullet didn’t hit an artery otherwise his wife would’ve found herself a widow and her children fatherless.”

  Ana closed her eyes as if to shut out the scene that continued to haunt her. “His wife is five months pregnant with their fourth child.”

  Jacob didn’t tell Ana that the shooter had probably worked alone, but if he’d had a spotter, then she wouldn’t be sitting next to him. He wasn’t certain whether something had spooked the sniper or he felt he had to get off the shot or lose his target, but destiny had determined that his target would get a reprieve.

  “My dad hired some people to try to find whoever shot Tyler. Do you think they’ll catch who’s behind it?”

  “I’d like to believe they’ll find him.”

  It was the first time Jacob heard a modicum of fear in Ana’s voice. He didn’t want to believe that she didn’t know that the Coles would spend every dollar of their vast wealth to keep her safe. He’d agreed to look after her because of his close bond with Diego. It wouldn’t be the first time he would step in to help the Coles. At Diego’s request he’d helped Vivienne Neal uncover who had been responsible for her husband’s hit-and-run. His involvement in solving the conspiracy that led to the death of the U.S. representative was instrumental when he was recommended for a promotion as an assistant director of the Miami-based federal detention center.

  Diego married Vivienne and they had asked him to become godfather to their son whom they named Samuel Jacob Cole-Thomas. Although they lived in the same state, he didn’t get to see his friends as much as he would’ve liked. Oversight of staff to supervise the U.S. Marshal Service at four Miami federal detention centers left him little time to socialize. It was only when the mandate came down that he had to take at least two months of his accrued vacation leave or he would lose it had he become aware that his career had taken over his life.