She took the knife he held out, her eyes growing wide as she met his. “Matt, I—”
“Use it if you have to. Don’t be squeamish, Evie. They won’t be.”
She nodded, her eyes still huge, and he squeezed her shoulder quickly before slipping toward the front of the house. As he moved, he drew the .45 he’d taken from the main house. He had to case the place and make sure no one was inside before going for the garage and her car. He didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary. His plan was to get the discs, Chris’s laptop, and get back to the Candyland. The senator had satellite Internet on the yacht—just in case he had a desperate need to follow the market while enjoying a leisurely afternoon with his wife—so transmitting any files wouldn’t be a problem.
The other option was to get up to the main house and check out the discs there, but it was too dangerous. If someone was watching the house, he didn’t want to put his family in danger from an assault. Not to mention the likelihood of a police visit to ask questions about the explosion.
No, it would take a little more time, but going back to the yacht was the best option. He came to the front edge of the house, hunkered down in the bushes, and studied the area. There were no cars down here, no movement of any kind. He eased from behind the bushes and skirted the front perimeter, keeping the house at his right.
It took a few minutes to make sure the entire perimeter was clear; then he was back at Evie’s side, urging her to follow him to the rear of the house. They crept up onto the porch and took up stations on either side of the door. Matt took the small flashlight from his pocket and held it in his right hand, directly above the gun in his left. He’d love to have some breaching explosives right about now, maybe a flash-bang to toss into the room, but all he had was the element of surprise and his training.
He’d warned Evie not to be startled, instructed her to wait here until he gave her the all clear. He met her gaze now and she nodded. Go for it.
What happened next occurred in a sequence so ingrained in him he didn’t have to consider the steps before acting. One minute he was standing outside, the next he was in, gun in front of him, flashlight sweeping into the corners of the room, blinding anyone who looked directly at him. It also put him in silhouette, making it harder for someone to target him. Add in the surprise of a bursting door, and you were guaranteed a disoriented criminal, at least for a few seconds. With a flash-bang, the disorientation would be complete.
He quickly went through the house the same way and then returned to the door.
“It’s clear.”
“Thank God for that.” Evie let the knife droop in her hand. “I think I prefer being a chef to a secret agent.”
“But if the chef thing doesn’t work out, you have a career to fall back on,” he teased.
“That’s okay. I’d rather be Mama’s shampoo girl if it came down to it.”
“Come on.” He led the way to the garage. Evie hurried to her car and yanked open the passenger door. She rifled through the side pockets, pulled out papers and a candy bar wrapper. Next, she opened the glove compartment. She came up with three discs, all of which she tossed into the pile.
“Are there any in the player?” It was an older car that had been fitted with an aftermarket disc player which sat on the floor beneath her passenger seat.
“Yes.” She slid the door to the changer open and took out the cartridge. Six discs fell into the pile. “We have to go through the boxes,” she said, looking at him apologetically. “The cases for these are in there. There should be other discs too.”
“We’ll have to do it quickly.” Matt grabbed a box, upending it on the garage floor. They didn’t have time for preamble, and Evie didn’t protest. She picked up another box and turned it upside down, scattering books and papers across the floor.
Matt located two CDs. He grabbed another box. Fifteen excruciating minutes later, all her stuff was scattered across the third bay again. But they had a pile of CDs, including one of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
“Is that all of them?”
“Has to be. We’ve been through everything.”
“Then we gotta boogie.” The tension to escape the garage and get back to the yacht began beating a drum in his head. They gathered up the CD cases, stuffed them in a small box, and went back through the house. Matt took a moment to grab some cheese and fruit from the fridge, snagged the laptop and cord off the counter, and led the way back to the dock.
They were gliding down the bayou away from Reynier’s Retreat when Evie’s phone rang. She glanced at the display and then looked up at him. He couldn’t see her face well in the darkness, but her agitation was evident.
“It’s David’s number.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BRIANNA UNLOCKED THE HANDCUFF FROM the iron headboard and made Sarah stand. Her legs were shaky and stiff, but she felt better after eating the hamburger and fries. The man had gone outside to talk on his cell phone. His voice drifted through the open door.
“Yeah, babe, it’s me… I know you’re surprised… No, I didn’t blow anything up, it was probably Rivera’s guys… My cousin, George… Yeah, strong family resemblance…”
“I gotta pee,” Sarah said.
“Tough. We’re going.”
“I’ll piss in the boat if you don’t let me go.”
Brianna scowled. “Get in there and don’t waste time.” She gestured toward the bathroom.
Sarah hurried inside, thankful Brianna hadn’t cuffed her wrists together yet, and yanked down her pants to squat over the toilet. She could still hear the guy talking through the cracked window as she concentrated. Her bladder had been abused so long it didn’t want to let go.
“I need you to bring it to me… What do you mean you don’t have it?”
He sounded like he was going to pop a blood vessel or something.
“Go get it then. And call me once you have it… Why? Because I can help you get your sister back, that’s why… Just fucking call me, you got it? And don’t think of pulling any funny shit with that tough military guy you got salivating after you, okay? Yeah, I’ll be waiting.”
A second later, she heard footsteps on the stairs. “What’re we waiting for, Bree?”
“She had to take a piss.”
Sarah jumped as the door rattled on its hinges. Her bladder chose that moment to release.
“You better hurry it up, little girl, or you’ll be gator bait.”
“Almost done,” she said, her voice hoarse. God, had it ever felt so good to pee? Warm liquid flooded out of her until she was empty. She reached for the toilet paper, thanked God there was a little left, then finished up and thought about escape. There was no use trying to slip through the window—it was too small and there was nowhere to go if she did get through. Only if she could make it to the boat first would she stand a chance. Since she couldn’t, since she felt weaker than a newborn baby, and since she was sick and tired of all this shit anyway, she opened the door and rejoined Brianna and the new guy.
They hustled her outside and into an airboat, sans duffel this time.
“What’re we doing with her anyway?” Brianna said. “Hauling her around is too much trouble.”
“We may need her. We’ll stick her in the trunk of your car. If we need her, she’s there. If not, it’ll be awhile before anyone finds her.”
“Why not just leave her in the swamp and be done with it?”
Sarah’s heart thudded. She had no doubt what Brianna meant.
“Did you hear anything I said? We might need her.”
“And when we get what we want?”
He made a slicing motion across his neck that would have been comical if he weren’t serious. “Then we take care of them all.”
*
When they got back to the yacht, Evie scrambled on board and let Matt hand up the box of CDs and the food. He joined her before cutting the aluminum boat adrift. There just wasn’t enough time to return it, and they needed to move quickly. The small craft wo
uld float into the swamp and maybe get stuck in the marsh grass or the duckweed. The owner would be able to retrieve it, if he could find it.
“I’ll make sure whoever owns it gets the boat back, Evie,” Matt said as if sensing the direction of her thoughts. “Or I’ll buy a new one.”
“I suppose that’s the last thing I should be thinking about. But you’re right, I was.”
She’d been focusing on mundane things since the phone call for the simple fact she still couldn’t believe David was alive and well. He claimed the body was his first cousin, George, who also worked for Rivera. And he admitted he’d been at the house and switched ID when he found his cousin’s body. He said he wanted the police to think he was dead because it would make leaving the country easier. She wasn’t sure she bought that excuse, but whatever.
He also claimed to be able to help her get Sarah back. He hadn’t bothered to explain how.
Evie followed Matt below. He set the box of CDs on the table and rifled through it.
“Red Hot Chili Peppers?” He held it up for her inspection.
“That’s what he said.” She hadn’t admitted to having the CD when David told her what he wanted. Something stopped her. Was it the right thing to do? It’d felt like it at the time, but now she wasn’t so sure. What if she’d said yes? She might be on her way to retrieving Sarah right now. Instead, she was sitting on the Girard yacht anchored at the mouth of the bayou and waiting for Matt to examine the CD case for evidence of hidden information.
He opened the case and took the disc out. Carefully, he pried the case apart and spread the contents across the table. He looked at the band information folder, then took out a penlight and ran it over all the surfaces.
“Well?”
Matt shook his head. “Unless this guy knows something I don’t about information storage, I’m not seeing anything. Shit.” He snapped off the light and picked up the disc, running his fingers around the edge. Then he turned the disc over. His smile was immediate. “The tricky bastard.”
“What?”
He turned the back of the disc toward her. “See the bluish color? It’s rewritable. The label is a copy. He used labeling software to duplicate the original so you wouldn’t notice he’d switched it out. You said you bought it new, right?”
“Yes. But it has the music on it. I played it not too long ago.”
He held it up at eye level and studied the label. “He probably copied the disc, then added his information to it. It’s a good job on the label. Not noticeable unless you study it closely.”
And she’d never noticed the switch, just like she’d never noticed that a dead body that looked like David wasn’t actually the man she’d once shared a bed with. My God, how obtuse did she have to be?
“Evie.”
“What?”
Matt took her hand, pulled her over until she could sit on his lap. He nestled her between his strong thighs. His fingers threaded into the hair that had fallen forward over her breasts. He twisted a lock around his index finger, lifting it to his nose. Then he tugged her down and kissed her. Softly, so softly. She felt his body stirring even though the kiss wasn’t very sexual. It wasn’t meant to be sexual. He was comforting her, giving her his strength, telling her it was okay. And he was doing it all with his lips and tongue. She moaned into his mouth and sank into the deliciousness of a kiss with this man she could love.
Tears sprang to her eyes and a sob caught in her throat. She wrenched her mouth away as it burst from her. He hugged her to him, his strong arms encircling her, cradling her against his broad chest.
She didn’t want to feel anything for him, and yet she couldn’t help it. She could love him. Hell, she was more than halfway there already. Damn him for being so decent and unselfish.
“How many times have you ever seen a dead body?”
He’d misunderstood, of course, and she was grateful for it. “Once,” she managed, gulping in air and forcing the tears into the void. She would not cry. Not now, not here, and not over him.
“It was dark, even with the porch light, and there was a lot of blood. You saw what you were meant to see, Evie. The guy looked enough like David to pass for him if you didn’t study him. You seemed surprised he had a goatee.”
“He was heavier too, but I figured he put on weight the last couple of months.”
“It’s not your fault, okay? You saw a dead man who looked like David. You didn’t spend time looking at him. It was a natural conclusion to make and the fact he had David’s ID on him confirmed it for the police.”
“Brianna knew he wasn’t dead.” She remembered what Bree had said on the docks—you’d be surprised—but she hadn’t understood it at the time. “And she still hasn’t called. Do you think David got to her? Maybe he killed her. Maybe he hid her body in my mother’s house before blowing it up.”
David hadn’t admitted to setting the explosion. He’d said he was inside the house looking for the disc when someone else arrived and he had to get out. He also said he hadn’t chased them afterward. She could imagine a lot of things from him, but she couldn’t imagine him killing anyone. She’d been wrong about him once before, though.
Wrong enough that she would never believe a word he said again.
Matt shrugged. “It could mean a lot of things. But we better get to work figuring out what’s on this disc if we want to find out.” He kissed her again, then sighed in frustration. “Damn, I’d like to be inside you right now. Just ten minutes, that’s all I need.” He blew out another breath. “But we can’t.”
“When this is over.” She pushed away and stood up to slide into the seat across the table. “You’re mine for twenty-four hours.”
She thought maybe a flash of regret flickered in his eyes, but she wasn’t sure.
“You’re on. We aren’t getting out of bed except to eat. And even then, I think we’re gonna do it naked.” He set the laptop on the table and powered it up, then slid the disc into the drive. His fingers clicked across the keys. “Yep, here it is. Along with your songs, there’s a compressed file.” A frown creased his face. “Password protected, of course. Any idea?”
“Try ‘lying snake.’ Kidding,” she said when Matt looked up at her. “I’m not sure. Maybe his birthday.” She rattled off the date, miffed on at least one level she could still remember it.
“Nope.”
She suggested a couple more things—his mother’s name, Helen, and his favorite drink, absinthe—both of which came up negative. Oddly, she began to realize she hadn’t really known that much about him. He liked to surf, so they tried various “surfer dude” combos. She didn’t know if he had a sister, a favorite color, or even a favorite food. Strange, considering she was a chef and cooking was her business. She’d never thought to ask David what he liked to eat. He ate the food in the restaurant, but she’d never known if he had a favorite.
“You’re thinking too hard about something,” Matt said, jerking her back to the present.
“Sorry.” She leaned her cheek against one palm. “I was just thinking that I didn’t know him very well for a guy I dated for two months.”
“I’m sure he didn’t want you to know him. He told you what he thought you wanted to hear.”
“You’re sweet, but I think I tend to have lousy taste in men. It’s an inherited trait.”
Matt grinned. “Thanks, chère, I appreciate the compliment.”
“You aren’t lousy, but you aren’t good for me either.” She smiled when she delivered it, yet she meant it too.
“Why’s that?” He looked genuinely puzzled.
“Because you aren’t available. You’re already married to your job. Nothing and no one comes before that, I think.”
“Yeah.” He looked troubled, but then the look passed and determination took its place.
“See,” she said brightly, “I’m cursed with the family gene.”
“You’ll find the right person. It just takes time.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” He
r throat ached. “Everything worth having takes time.”
She heard him tapping on the keys again. “I need to get this file to Kev. We won’t figure it out by trying different combos of stuff. The Kid can crack it for us.”
He picked up his phone and punched a button. She was grateful for these guys even if she never got to thank them personally.
“Got another file for the Kid,” Matt said after the preliminaries were finished. “An encrypted data file. This is the info we were looking for, Big Mac. I need this as fast as he can get it done, top priority. I’ll owe him one, believe me.”
A minute later, he finished the call and then got to his feet. “We need to move. We can’t sit in one place too long.”
“Do you really think anyone is looking for us?” Who could be out there trolling the lake for the Girard yacht? The police, maybe, but not if their hands were still full with what had happened at the house earlier. She pictured it again, one wall blown away—in the kitchen, of course—and the flames eating at the rest of the structure. All of her childhood memories were gone with that blast. The pictures, the ridiculous things she’d saved—the movie ticket stub from her first date, the candy wrapper from the bar Matt gave her in class once when she was in her full-blown crush mode. She’d saved so much silly stuff, never bothered to toss it out or take it with her when she left, and now it was all gone. Everything, ruined.
“We can’t take a chance, Evie. We don’t know how many people are looking for us, or how long it’ll take them to figure out the yacht’s gone.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve been out for nearly two hours now. Someone’s noticed, believe me.”
“Where are we going?”
He paused in the doorway to the rear deck. “I’m taking a different finger of the bayou, a deeper one, where we can get into the cypresses and wait. Hopefully, we’ll hear something from Kev soon.”
“When was the last time you took this thing into the bayou?”
“Years ago.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “I know it’s changed, that the hurricanes have silted the bottom, but we only need a few feet. We’ll be okay.”
Hot Pursuit Page 25