In the distance, white sand and the emerald sea clued her in that they might be in the Florida Keys or the Bahamas. As if it wouldn’t be hard enough to get away, they were locked in by the sea. She wished she had the knowledge to spot a bird or flowers or plants that only grew in certain latitudes. But schoolwork had never been her forte. She didn’t like sitting behind a desk, not even to invoice her students.
She must have dallied. A guard prodded her with a gun, reminding her that though the island might be tropical, this was no vacation package. The bright sunlight seemed to mock her as they marched across the sandy compound toward a gigantic warehouse. She estimated the size at about ten times that of her father’s lab. About 80,000 square feet.
The building sat next to the water, about twelve feet above sea level. She couldn’t be certain of the facilities on the other side because the building itself blocked the view. However, she heard engines and glimpsed a boat’s wake.
Asad joined them with a nod to his men, then escorted them quickly into the warehouse. The reek of chemicals hit her about the same time Asad halted, turned around, and spoke. “If you would like the same kind of treatment you’ve been given, you will follow orders.”
The threat in his accented voice was in the subtext. His tone remained flat, unemotional. When Asad glanced over his shoulder and deeper into the warehouse, almost as if fearing what was ahead, a chill of fear shot down her spine. Asad was tough, and if he was afraid, then she had reason to shake.
For the first time, Kaylin had the feeling Asad might not be the leader. For all she knew, he held a minor position.
Sawyer nodded. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t like the way these men looked at her, as if she were no more than a bug to be squashed if she got in the way. But as they entered the warehouse, their escorts tensed, their eyes avoiding one another the way men did when uneasy.
At first, she saw nothing frightening. The warehouse consisted of huge tanks of many sizes. Lots of noisy pumps. Machinery whose purpose she could only guess at. She might not be an expert, but she recognized a biodiesel plant when she saw one. This facility had many similarities to her father’s smaller one—right down to the metered lines through which yellow fuel pumped into tanks.
But there the resemblance ended. The tanks were gigantic and numerous. A loading dock with a pass-through to the water revealed men pumping fuel onto a barge.
She frowned. They were already making biodiesel here. So why had they gone to such extremes to kill her father, kidnap Lia, and now Sawyer and her? What could her father have discovered that was valuable enough to warrant such violence?
A man watched them advance, clearly waiting for them, Sawyer’s laptop in hand. White, bald, and with muscles that bulged from his black T-shirt, he stared at them with cold blue eyes behind silver-rimmed glasses, a Rottweiler with a spiked collar by his side. Tattoos on the man’s arms suggested he’d spent time aboard ships. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t recall ever seeing him. But the fear in her guards’ eyes put her on edge.
He spoke without an accent, but his language was so formal she suspected he hadn’t learned English in the United States. “I am Pavel. I trust your quarters were comfortable?”
Again Sawyer nodded. Kaylin didn’t move. She recalled where she’d seen him. On her father’s surveillance DVD. This man had visited her father’s plant the week before his murder. A cold chill ran through her as she suspected she now faced her father’s killer.
Pavel turned to Asad and petted the Rottweiler. “Kit had a sandspur between his toes. Who did you assign to groom him?”
Kaylin had expected the man to address them, but obviously his dog took priority. She didn’t mind. It gave her a chance to look around. Not that she saw a means of escape. A chain link fence surrounded the perimeter, and armed guards and cameras were everywhere.
Asad motioned one man forward. The guard trembled and sank to his knees. From his tone and posture, she gathered he was begging, but she couldn’t be certain since he spoke a language she didn’t understand. Despite his plea, Pavel’s face remained icy.
When the man stopped speaking, Pavel casually withdrew a pistol from his side holster. He shot the man between the eyes.
At the loud ringing in her ears and the sight of the man keeling over, Kaylin gasped. Pavel had shot the man for failing to find a sandspur between a dog’s toes. His actions, both outrageous and brutal, floored her, shocked her, swept her totally off balance.
And their fate was in Pavel’s hands? Oh . . . God. She froze, unable to move, to think. Her entire body shook. No one paid any attention, except Sawyer, who slipped his hand into hers.
She hung on for dear life. What she’d just seen could have been a scene in a bad movie. She couldn’t take in the reality that one moment a man had been alive, the next dead, his life ended as if he were no more important than a cockroach. But he was someone’s son, maybe someone’s brother, possibly a father.
Her cereal rolled in her stomach, and she swallowed hard to keep down breakfast. Closing her eyes for a moment, she slowly breathed in and out, trying to find her equilibrium.
Asad barked an order, and two men dragged away the body as if he were a sack of caustic soda. The killing happened so fast, it seemed unreal. However, the trickle of blood and the drag of his boots across the concrete were a solid reminder she had not dreamed the incident.
Although Pavel had made an example of the guard, no doubt for their sake, his ruthless action only made her more determined to escape—before he found out they’d faked the data, before he disposed of them, too.
Pavel ignored Asad and held the laptop out to Sawyer. “You will convert this plant to Dr. Danner’s new specs.”
Sawyer took the laptop. “His formula is just a theory. You realize it has never been tested?”
“You make it work, or you die.” Pavel turned to Asad. “See that he has what he needs.”
Kaylin noted that Pavel issued the ultimatum without giving them a time frame for completion. She had no idea if he expected results in hours, days, or weeks.
Asad stayed with Pavel, but the remaining two guards trailed them to a section of the plant where the computers sat in a section walled off from the big tanks and chemicals.
Sawyer opened the laptop. “Where can I plug in?” When neither guard answered, he frowned and tried a second time, “Do you speak English?”
Again, neither guard answered.
Sawyer held up the cord. One guard pointed to a socket that Sawyer could have found by himself. Obviously, he’d been testing the men to see if they spoke English. However, just because they hadn’t answered didn’t mean they weren’t faking.
Kaylin decided to test them further and watch their responses closely. “After making love last night, my breasts hurt.”
“What?” Sawyer jerked up his head, but she focused on their guards. Neither had reacted. Not a smile. Not a hint of understanding.
“I’m fairly certain these men don’t speak English.” She took a chair beside Sawyer. “What can I do to help?”
“Don’t assume anything. Follow my lead and stay alert.” He linked his laptop into their system. She saw him hack through a series of codes. Their guards paid no attention. Instead, they watched as if fearing they would try to escape at any moment. Apparently, the loss of their former comrade had left a deep impression. These guys would not fall asleep on the job.
But as for her staying alert? She didn’t need Sawyer to tell her that. At first, she jumped at every sound. But when nothing further happened, the heat began to mellow her out. Pavel and Asad disappeared, and watching Sawyer type code into his computer hour after hour was as interesting as watching the ants climb the wall.
So instead she watched the guards’ routine. She counted how many minutes it took them to make their rounds. She noted when they hit the bathroom and w
hen they took a cigarette break—always at one particular side of the building, far from the explosive materials.
Her father had never allowed smoking in the plant. Apparently one spark could set off the methane in its raw form. She kept an eye out for Pavel and Asad, but they didn’t come by.
She counted the men coming and going, estimated the plant’s fuel capacity, and wished she could talk to Sawyer. But he seemed busy, totally focused on his laptop.
Eight hours later, the same guards escorted them back to their quarters where a meal waited for them. Chicken and rice, a salad, and Jell-O. They ate without speaking. Finally, Sawyer suggested they take a shower. Either he wanted sex, or he wanted to talk. She was up for either.
40
SAWYER TUGGED her into the shower and kissed her. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”
“Me, too.” She leaned into him, enjoying his hands sliding up and down her back, and rested her palms on his hips, her fingers on his butt. “Did you bring me in here for sex or conversation?”
He grinned. “Both. Let’s talk first.”
“Pavel is the bald guy on Dad’s security footage.”
He nodded, obviously having made that connection himself. “I hacked into their books.”
“How?”
“I had a keylogger program on my laptop. I installed the program on their computer and then traced every key stroke. That gave me their passwords, and, like that, I was in the system.”
Sawyer’s exterior often distracted her from his intelligence. She’d known her father wouldn’t have kept him on as a partner if he hadn’t been brilliant, but she kept forgetting about his doctorates, probably because he exuded Southern charm. She eyed him. “Sometimes you scare me.”
“Is that a good thing?” he asked.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who doesn’t find nerds attractive?”
She caressed his chest. “Yeah. That’s it. I have to force myself to touch you because you’re smart.”
At her sarcasm, he chuckled. “Nerdiness can be a good thing. Pavel and Asad acquired their tanks from Witman Container.”
“So?” She narrowed her eyes, not seeing his point. “From the size of Dean’s operation, I’d imagine they supply half the eastern seaboard with biodiesel tanks.”
“Yeah, but Pavel and Asad didn’t pay for the tanks.”
“You mean they’re short on funds?” That was kind of difficult to believe considering the size of their operation. From what she’d seen, they had to be selling tens of thousands of gallons of biodiesel every day.
Sawyer shook his head, and water sprayed down her back. “This plant has been here for over a year. Yet, they haven’t paid so much as one penny for those tanks.”
Pavel hadn’t paid Dean Witman for the containers, yet he’d had plenty of time and had the cash to do so. She could only think of one reason why Dean Witman hadn’t collected. “You think Dean might be an investor, one of the owners here?” Her eyes widened as she caught on. “If Dean’s an owner in this place, and he was trying to buy out Dad, then he’s behind all our problems.”
“Looks like it.”
“You think Dean tried to buy out Dad, and when Dad refused he killed him, thinking I’d inherit and sell out to him?”
“I don’t know. If that’s the case, why didn’t he ever e-mail us the offer?”
“Maybe he thought the price would go down if he waited—but he called the day after Dad’s funeral. It doesn’t make sense. Did you check to see if the message got caught in your spam folder?” she asked.
“I had a lot on my mind with Lia being kidnapped,” he admitted. “But this new information about Dean won’t do us any good if we can’t escape this island.”
“Are you sure we’re on an island?”
“We’re somewhere off the Florida Keys. I traced the satellite uplinks.”
Of course he had.
“So what’s our next move?” She leaned into him, expecting a physical response. His erection didn’t disappoint her. But instead of returning her embrace, he shot her a serious frown.
“I can manipulate the computer program to cause an explosion in the plant.”
An explosion? Like the one that had killed her father? From his tone she could tell he had problems with that idea, but probably not for the same reasons she did. She still recalled the horror of losing her father and had no wish to repeat the experience. Explosions weren’t reliable. They killed indiscriminately. “Are you certain you can do it?”
“No problem. Methanol is very flammable. That’s not the issue.” He stared into her eyes. “It’s the timing.”
She stated the obvious. “We don’t want to be inside the plant when it explodes.”
“We also don’t want to be locked up here, either.”
“Oh. You want the explosion to be a diversion so we can get away. Makes sense. But we can’t be certain if they’ll bring us back here at the same time tomorrow night.”
“Exactly.” He nodded approval. “We have about a six-minute window if they keep the same schedule. And that’s an if that might make the difference between us living or dying.”
“We could wait a few days to see if they keep—”
“I’d rather not. Asad enjoys hurting you. And Pavel’s no fool. He’ll expect progress, and I can’t deliver.”
“You want to set the explosion for tomorrow?” She shivered under the water and turned the temperature to hot.
He nodded. “But if we fail—”
“Don’t say it. I don’t want to think about it.”
“Kaylin. I’m not going forward unless you agree. But the alternatives—”
“I know.” She recalled Asad’s slaps and Pavel’s brutality toward his own men. These men had no mercy in them. “Can you make the explosion go off whenever you want?”
“Pretty much. Within a few seconds.”
“And once you start the process, is there any way to shut it down?”
“Nope. That’s why we’re deciding now.”
“Maybe we’ll find a different way to escape.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t think so, do you?”
He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. The longer we wait, the higher the chance that Pavel will discover we don’t have the formula.”
She took a deep breath and let out the air slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it tomorrow. It would be nice to have a backup plan if they don’t escort us out on time.”
“I’ll wait until the last moment to arm the trigger. Just try and stay sharp tomorrow. If I squeeze your hand, that will be my signal to be ready to act.”
“You mean run?”
“Yes.”
“What if we can’t touch?”
“Then I’ll wink.”
She eyed him, afraid he might try something heroic, like staying behind to fight so she could get away. Like she would stand a chance of escaping by herself. Even if she found a boat with a radio, she wouldn’t know how to use it. “We are running together, right?”
He pulled her tight and slid his hands down her buttocks. “You bet your sweet ass, we’re running together. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
They ran out of hot water sometime during the next half hour. Kaylin didn’t care. Sawyer projected enough heat to keep her warm. He knew how to get under her skin, excite her mind as well as her body. Tonight they’d replaced last night’s playfulness with wild abandon. She didn’t hold back. Not her body. Not her feelings. Not her essence.
And it felt good. Not just physically, but emotionally. For too long she’d held herself apart. She hadn’t wanted to fall for anyone—not when she’d been so determined to leave Florida for New York and th
e stage. But none of that mattered now. Not when the future might not be there for them.
And if they lived? She’d deal with it then.
Later, after they’d made love, she tried to relax. But just thinking about tomorrow, about blowing up those huge tanks, set her on edge. For all she knew, everyone on the entire island might die in the explosion. She hoped Sawyer had calculated how far away from the blast they needed to be to survive.
She thought about asking about the chances of being rescued, but changed her mind. The chances of anyone having tracked them had to be infinitesimal. Some things it was better not to know.
But one thing she knew for certain—without Sawyer, she wouldn’t have stood a chance. If he hadn’t followed her to Pasha’s, she might have been here alone. Having Sawyer to talk to, to make love to, to hold on to through the long hours of the night made her circumstances more bearable.
She’d wanted steady and solid. Sawyer was all of that. Funny how her definitions had changed. Steady and solid had once meant a regular paycheck and health insurance. Now steady and solid meant a man who would do his best to save their lives.
Being close to Sawyer no longer scared her. Maybe she was so frightened of dying that admitting she needed someone else no longer seemed like a big deal. Maybe she’d grown emotionally. Maybe she’d just lost her sanity. She suspected if her life ever returned to normal she would have a lot of soul-searching to do.
But for now, she was oddly . . . content.
41
KAYLIN WOKE UP the next morning with a sense of impending doom in the pit of her gut. For Sawyer’s sake, she tried to pretend she had no doubts. She pretended she believed his plan would work, that they’d escape. But deep down, she said good-bye to her sisters, good-bye to her dreams of dancing on stage, good-bye to life and any shot at a future with Sawyer.
Of the three, saying good-bye to her dreams of dancing on stage was by far the easiest. Kaylin had shared her love of dance with her mother. It was the thing they’d done together, where she’d felt special and close to her mom. Dance had been their mother/daughter thing. After her mom died, she’d hung on to the dream, but for the first time, she wondered if she would have pushed so hard to continue if her mother had lived. Was dancing her way of trying to keep her mother’s spirit alive?
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