by Deb Sanders
“Would you prefer to stay here until they decide to kill us?”
She shook her head vigorously. “Tell me what to do.”
Sam approached the wine racks, scanning the labels of each row.
Surely he wasn’t intending to get drunk!
A slow smile spread across his face as he extracted a bottle of dark red wine and read the label. “A nice Cabernet. This was a very good year, too. Very expensive. I think it will do nicely.”
Before she realized his intentions, Kate watched Sam grip the bottle by its neck and slam it against the edge of the wooden rack. Wine exploded everywhere, leaving splatters across the front of his shirt and slacks and spilling across the floor in a dark pool.
Sam held the neck of the jagged bottle in his hand, brandishing it in the air like a sword. “Many a bar room brawl has ended on a fatal note with this simple weapon.”
Kate swallowed hard, certain she was not going to like his scheme.
“Go to the door and tell the guard you need to use the restroom. When he opens the door, I’ll take it from there.”
Kate followed his instructions with a new resolve. “Hello? I need to use the restroom.”
There was a moment of silence before a gravelly voice answered. “You’ll have to wait. I have orders not to open the door.”
Kate cast a doubtful glance at Sam. He motioned for her to try again.
“You can bring me right back. I promise no one will know,” she pleaded with all the helplessness she could muster. “I really need to go bad.” After another minute, she added, “You can stand in the door and make sure I don’t escape.”
The opportunity to see her partially unclothed must have convinced him because she immediately heard a key rattle in the lock. She smiled brightly as Sam ducked into the shadows beside the door.
“Alright, Miss Merrill, but don’t try anything funny.”
“Trust me, funny is not how I’m feeling right now.”
He stepped back to let her pass, his expression ripe with anticipation. Kate paused, pretending her foot was stuck between the boards of the slatted landing. “I’m sorry, my shoe is wedged. Could I use your arm for support while I yank it free?”
He shook his head as if disgusted with her plight. Seconds later, he leaned his semi automatic weapon against the wall and stepped onto the landing.
Sam’s reaction was swift and deadly as he grabbed the man from behind, covering his mouth with one hand, and deftly slicing his throat with the broken bottle. The guard briefly struggled against Sam’s hold as his blood sprayed across the wall.
With a dying gurgle, he collapsed on the floor.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Kate stepped back, covering her eyes with both hands. “You killed him.”
“It was him or us, sweetheart. Go to the kitchen and don’t look back. I’m going to hide the body.”
Kate obeyed, struggling to forget the horrific image. Sam was right. This was no time to be squeamish. Picking up the guard’s rifle, she waited until Sam came bounding up the stairs.
“Good girl,” he whispered, taking the weapon from her hands. He released the safety lever and motioned for her to follow him.
It was late afternoon. A thunderstorm had darkened the sky with ominous black clouds making it seem closer to nightfall. Bright flashes of lightning illuminated the hallway, punctuated by deafening booms. They moved stealthily through the short corridor connecting the kitchen to the formal dining room.
“We’ll make a run for it,” Sam whispered close to her ear. “Try not to make a sound. If anyone sees us, duck.” He glanced at the semi automatic rifle to clarify his meaning.
She nodded, crouching behind him as they tiptoed across the marble foyer. When they reached the door leading outside, Sam slowly pulled it open, peering around the edge before motioning her to follow.
He eased onto the porch in a crouched position, his rifle poised for firing as he surveyed the grounds once more. Kate knelt beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. The next few minutes exploded around them like shrapnel from a bomb.
A voice boomed from a loudspeaker. “Down! Down! Get down, now!”
Sam reacted instinctively, pulling Kate behind one of the large urns. He shielded her with his body as dozens of men in black military uniforms swarmed from the shadows.
Kate curled into a ball under Sam’s chest, certain Sharon’s guards had discovered them. To her surprise, the men ran past them and burst through the front door.
She raised her head as shots were fired inside the house. “Who are they?”
Sam shook his head, as bewildered by the attack as she was. Suddenly, two of the soldiers were at their side, helping them to their feet.
“Come with us.” The leader barked his command with a sense of urgency.
Kate felt Sam grab her hand as they ran from the porch and into a small wooded area adjacent the grounds. One soldier led the way as the other guarded their backs.
When at last they stopped, Kate was out of breath. She could hear an occasional shot being fired but for the most part, the attack seemed over.
Sam lifted the rifle, eyeing one of the rescuers suspiciously. “Who are you?”
“Clint Sheppard. I work for . . .”
A loud rustling came from the underbrush behind them. Sam swung around as a short man with a big cigar closed the distance between them.
“Mr. Holden, let me congratulate you! You are the first person who has ever successfully evaded my men.”
Sam frowned as the older man stopped in front of him and looked up, a broad smile spreading across his timeless face. But what really caught his attention the man’s exuberance. He seemed to be thoroughly delighted by the foray unfolding around them.
Kate stepped forward, a mixture of awe and disbelief darting across her features. “Sam, this is Conrad Buckman.”
“Buckman?”
Sam stared at the man in front of him. A large cowboy hat was pushed back on his head revealing a mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes. One hand dug deep into the pocket of grey western pants while the other removed the cigar from his mouth. A pair of dusty suede cowboy boots supported his short frame. He grinned impishly from a wide spread stance, looking more like a Texas Ranger than a billionaire.
“I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you, of course. Not that you needed my help. By the looks of it, you had everything under control.” He winked at Kate. “We were able to arrange our intervention when Miss Merrill took the knapsack from my man at the hotel. He planted a tracking device in the lining of the bag so we could follow without being detected.”
“But you have the formula and the incriminating diary,” Sam reasoned in a taut voice. “There was no reason for you to help us.”
“Everyone needs help now and then, son,” he chided in a fatherly tone. “As for that damn diary. . .what a farce! Whoever planted that thing didn’t even try to imitate my handwriting. Why, my writing looks like chicken scratch, and that so called journal is almost legible.”
Sam swallowed the chuckle that gurgled in his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m at a loss for words.”
“There’s plenty of time to explain everything later. Right now, I have one question. How the hell did you lose my men in Oklahoma?” A touch of embarrassment mingled with undisguised admiration. “How did you do it?” he prompted again, eagerly awaiting an answer.
Sam grinned, lowering his weapon. “We painted the car, sir. It took two cases of black spray paint from a local hardware store but it allowed us to get out of town without being recognized on the road or by air.”
Conrad’s mouth flew open in surprise. He threw back his head and released a belly shaking laugh.
“That’s the funniest damn thing I ever heard!” He began wiping tears of amusement from his eyes with the back of his hand. “Who would have guessed it?”
“Apparently not your men, sir.”
He nodded enthusiastically. “W
ell done, young man, well done.”
Their attention riveted to the front steps of the mansion where Sharon Grant and two other men were being led away in handcuffs. A crackle came from a hand held walkie talkie attached to the Clint Sheppard’s waist. He listened intently, barking a short “10-4” into the mouthpiece.
Turning to the group, he addressed Conrad. “The property has been secured, sir. There were a total of three casualties, including one in the basement who had already been taken out.”
“Thanks, Clint.” Conrad cast a questioning look at Sam. They exchanged a silent understanding.
“Where are your men taking Grant?”
For the first time, the eccentric billionaire’s expression grew serious. “To the feds. The courts are not kind to terrorists, especially when they hail from our own country.” His face turned a deep purple as he began a rant. “The United States of America offers more opportunity than any other nation in the world. It’s unthinkable one of our own citizens would stoop to something this despicable.”
Kate leaned into Sam. “I told you he was a patriot.”
He smiled, nodding his head as the older man continued to extol his national pride. When he finally paused to take a breath, Kate spoke up.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but Jeff Miller was working with Sharon. He betrayed you and my father. Betrayed all of us. Do you know where he is?”
Conrad’s nostrils flared like an enraged bull. “Yep! He’s talking to the feds right now, trying to work out a plea bargain. Life without parole if he spills his guts about Grant and her accomplices. Beats the death penalty, I guess.”
Kate stepped back, shocked by his revelation. “But how . . . ?”
His expression grew solemn as he squeezed her shoulder. “I had his phone bugged. Once we set up surveillance to monitor his activities, things started to make sense. I just wish I had done it sooner.” He cleared his throat. “I admit I fell for that damned hoax about your dad being involved with the terrorists. After a bit, though, too many things didn’t add up.”
He shot her a guilty look. “When Robert died, I grew suspicious of Jeff. I had my men start gathering information. Luckily for me, each time you called Jeff, I began to build a clearer picture of the situation. I sent my men to rescue you a couple of times, but your bodyguard was too damned slippery!” He winked at Sam before continuing in a sober voice. “I respected Robert Merrill, honey. He was a fine man and a great scientist. It hurts me to say I failed him in the end.”
“You didn’t fail him. He was a victim.” She blinked away the tears blurring her vision. “He would be happy to know his death was not in vain.”
Sam put his arm around Kate’s shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze. He looked at Conrad. “I have one more question, sir. Why didn’t you report this to the CIA? I take it these men are part of a personal SWAT team.”
Conrad slipped into a thoughtful silence as if carefully choosing his words. “It’s unfortunate our government and law enforcement agencies get so bogged down in red tape. As a result, most of them are short staffed and don’t have a sense of urgency when the time for action arises. You know what I mean, son?”
Sam nodded emphatically. He had experienced the same frustrations when he worked with the ATF.
“It can be a detriment. People suffer, people die, and nothing gets resolved. I’m just a private citizen so that means I can bend the rules a bit. In the end, I get things accomplished, and sometimes I get lucky and save the ones who fall through the cracks. I get my hand slapped by the feds once in a while, but here’s the kicker. . .” An indolent chuckle shook his shoulders. “I’ve got so damn much money and corporate clout that they really can’t touch me. If I pulled my investments, charitable donations and closed down my companies, this country would be in a heap o’ hurt. I wouldn’t ever do it,” he added hastily, “but the feds don’t know that.”
Sam laughed out loud, the kind of low, growling sound that sent Kate’s pulses racing. “I like your style, Mr. Buckman.”
To Kate’s surprise, Conrad put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders, reaching up a bit because of Sam’s height.
“I did a little digging into your background,” he grinned slyly. “Seems you got into a bit of trouble with the ATF a while back.” Sam stiffened. “Now, calm down, sonny. I like what you did. It takes a man with guts to do the right thing, especially when it means choosing the law over a friend. I could use a man like that to run my elite guard. Someone who’s willing to risk it all.”
Sam stilled as his expression grew solemn.
“Sam?” Kate placed her hand on his arm. “It’s a wonderful opportunity.”
Conrad cleared his throat with a noisy rumble. “I’m gonna check with my men. Make sure we’ve tied up the loose ends. We can discuss this later.” With a subtle nod in their direction, he marched purposefully across the lawn.
Sam stepped forward and clasped his arms around her. “We’re safe,” he murmured softly. “It’s over.”
She melted against him, loving the way their bodies molded to each other. Loving him. She raised her head, her gaze searching his face.
“What now?”
She felt his body tense. She’d always known there would be a risk in loving him, a possibility he wouldn’t open his heart to her. As the silence lengthened, Kate grew more uneasy. He had said he loved her but only when he thought they were going to die.
“Kate. . .”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she sighed. She stepped back from his embrace. “I’ve had an incredible experience, one I’ll never forget. Thank you for that.” Kate turned away before he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ll ask Conrad for a ride back to California on one of his jets.”
She started across the clearing, overcome by the need to put distance between them. Distance from the man who had captured her heart, and then given it back.
“Kate!”
She paused in mid step but refused to turn around. “Go back to Lost Mountain, Sam. It’s where you belong.”
“I can’t. I’m not lost anymore. You found me.”
Kate froze, unable to move. Did she hear correctly? Seconds later, he was behind her, the heat from his body penetrating the thin fabric of her jersey top.
“We belong together.” His warm breath fanned her cheek as she gave into the urge to lean into him. “Marry me.”
Kate whirled around, tears glistening on her cheeks as she offered a wordless nod. His mouth claimed its prize as his arms wrapped her in a protective embrace, creating a bond that would never be broken.
“I thought you wanted to go back to the mountain,” she murmured at last when he raised his head, eyes dark with passion.
“It served its purpose. I needed refuge.” He ran a finger slowly down her cheek, his gaze warm with tenderness. “But you’re my refuge now.”
“And you’re mine,” she whispered breathlessly.
As they walked across the clearing, arm in arm, Kate smiled to herself. Her dad would be happy with the way things turned out. And she was pretty sure he’d approve of the man who had won her heart.
It was funny how quickly life could change. She awoke that morning certain her life was ending. But now, with Sam’s arm wrapped snugly around her shoulders, she realized it was just beginning.
Epilogue
The sun danced on the turquoise waves, glinting brilliantly off the sleek white yacht and scattering a thousand pinpoints of light across the Caribbean ocean.
Kate stretched languidly in the lounge chair, lulled into a peaceful bliss by the warmth of the fiery orb. Two months ago she had wondered if she would ever know peace again.
She shifted her gaze to the tanned, muscular body lying next to her, following the trail of dark hair to where it disappeared beneath the waist of blue swimming trunks. He was magnificent, no doubt about it.
“You’re staring, Mrs. Holden.”
Leaning up on one elbow, an impish grin danced across
her lips. “Since when is a wife not allowed to admire her husband?”
Sam smiled, pulling his sunglasses to the end of his nose. The intensity of his gaze filled her with a heat that far exceeded the sun’s rays.
“Hmmm, I think it’s time for more than admiration,” he murmured suggestively.
Kate eagerly swung her legs over the edge of the lounge, pausing as a young man in a white uniform approached them.
“Will you be dining on land tonight, Mr. Holden, or shall I have the cook prepare a meal?”
Sam glanced at his wife, his intentions obvious. “I think we’ll be staying aboard tonight, Jim. Thanks for asking.”
“I could get used to this,” she giggled, watching the steward disappear.
“It’s addictive, that’s for sure,” he agreed. “It was generous of Conrad to loan us his yacht for our honeymoon.”
“Or perhaps he had an ulterior motive,” she inserted glibly. “I think he wants you to be relaxed when you start your new job next week.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Kate breathed deeply of the salty air, sad that their vacation was nearly over but anxious to start the next phase of their life together. As promised, Cal had arranged for her artwork to be displayed in his friend’s gallery and she had already received commissions for several paintings.
Sam was eager to begin his new position as head of Buckman’s personal investigation team. Even though he had acted nonchalant about it, she knew he was excited about returning to law enforcement, even though it would be for the private sector.
Conrad had discreetly provided details about other rescues by his private army. He utilized covert actions when the government or local officials were unable to help.
By bringing Sam on board, he had finalized his dream of forming an elite squad developed specifically for high risk rescues. Kate accused him of being a modern day Zorro, a description he had laughingly embraced.
Not so different from the wonderful man she had married. Following their rescue, Sam had spent endless hours debriefing with the CIA about what they knew of the bioterrorism plot. Eventually, the plague bacteria had been confiscated and quarantined. Jeff Miller cooperated fully with Attorney General. He escaped the death penalty but faced a dismal future of life behind bars.