Taste of Danger

by Alexa Verde

  “You’re wrong,” she said hotly. “You’ll make a great husband someday. As for the father material, I’ve seen you with kids. You’d be an amazing father.”

  Could she be right? “Let’s talk about something else.” He called his friend, but the call went to voice mail. James frowned. They couldn’t wait much longer.

  “Tell me more about my relatives,” she said.

  “Alvin is a mechanic and, from what I’ve heard, a good one. His son, Kyle, is still at college, earning an engineering degree. Neither one has ever gotten into any trouble. Both were characterized by their friends as responsible and hard-working. Alvin has been married for twenty-six years. Kyle has a girlfriend of three years.”

  “How do you think they’d react to me?” Her appetite seemed to return as she finished her pecan pie. “Well, I know they hate me now because of the inheritance. But if we find the Fabergé egg, I’ll share it with them.”

  “They’ll love you as soon as they get to know you. You’re kind, talented, beautiful, smart, and compassionate. What’s not to love?”

  “No men in my life have thought that way.”

  His blood boiled at the misery in her eyes. “It’s their loss.” Her ex-boyfriend must’ve been an idiot to trade Soledad for someone else. Granted, it took effort to see the hidden treasure behind the colorless loose clothing she used to wear and shy exterior, but it was worth it.

  “Thank you.” Her gaze softened. “And thank you for opening up to me.”

  “Looks like my friend is a no-show.” He rose to his feet before he could do something stupid, like walk around the table and kiss her. “It’s time to hit the road again.”

  At that moment, he caught sight of his friend Robert entering the restaurant.

  Robert rushed to their table, keys in his hand dangling. “Sorry I’m late. Family emergency. You can take my motorcycle.” He handed the keys over.

  James gave him his set. “These are for the rental car outside. I’ll pick it up on the way back from Austin.” He made introductions and didn’t appreciate the interest in Robert’s eyes when the latter gave Soledad a once-over.

  However, she seemed to be oblivious to the male attention, and that was one of many things he liked about her. They headed toward the exit.

  She staggered on the way out, and he caught her elbow to steady her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just sleepy.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to run to the restroom.”

  She disappeared down the hall, and he felt strangely empty inside. How was he going to spend the rest of his life without her when even a minute without her was difficult to bear?

  * * *

  As she stepped outside the restroom, Soledad stumbled into a tall guy in a black cap and sunglasses who immediately drew her close. The barrel of a gun pressed into her side.

  She froze.

  “You’re going with me outside,” he whispered into her ear.

  Panic gripped her body. She couldn’t see James, and he probably couldn’t see her, either. She’d gone through this before, but it didn’t feel any better to be kidnapped the second time around.

  The guy shifted her so that she’d walk in front of him. Her heart thundering in her ears, she stepped outside and was met by a wave of hot, humid air. The barrel pressed harder into her flesh, and she shuddered in spite of the heat.

  “Move forward. Don’t even think of running,” the guy said.

  Her only hope was that he needed her alive to be able to find the treasure. So he might not shoot her if she tried to escape.

  It was now or never.

  Gathering all the strength she had, she jabbed him with her elbow and ducked behind the nearest car. She tugged on the door, but of course it was locked. She dashed to the next car. He dove behind her, whirled her around, and smashed her across her face. Pain erupted inside her head, and she hit the ground.

  “Don’t try to escape!” he growled.

  She had to do something. She had to survive!

  Chapter Nine

  James’s gut twisted. Something was wrong if Soledad hadn’t appeared yet. He rushed to the restroom. A fifty-something lady was about to enter the restroom.

  “Could you help me? Please check on a beautiful young woman in jeans and a blue T-shirt?” he asked in haste.

  The lady looked at him with doubt in her pale eyes.

  He turned on his charm. “Please? Her name is Soledad, and she wasn’t feeling well. I want to make sure nothing happened to her.”

  The lady gave a curt nod and entered the restroom. Seconds stretched while she was behind the door. Finally, she appeared in the door opening. “The restroom is empty. I even called out her name several times,” she said.

  His heart sank. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  He bolted outside and scanned the parking lot. A man in dark clothing, ball cap, and sunglasses shoved Soledad inside a black truck. James took off in a run. The truck squealed out of the parking lot, while James sprinted to Robert’s motorcycle. He gunned the engine and shot out of the parking lot in the direction the black vehicle had taken.

  Urgency to rescue Soledad thundered in his ears. He passed several cars, sometimes barely fitting in the space between them. Angry honking split the air. He didn’t pay attention. Only Soledad mattered. Soon he was on the highway, where he could see the black truck in the distance.

  He increased speed again, pushing the motorcycle to its limit. The upset growl of the motor became louder, as if protesting, but the distance between him and the dark vehicle diminished. He clenched his teeth. He had to make it. Even if he had to face multiple rifles.

  Years of dirt-bike racing in his youth came useful now. He tightened his grip around the handle, knowing what he had to do. He’d be taking a huge risk, but it was now or never.

  Adrenaline surged through his veins when he went airborne. He landed in the bed of the truck, the front tire of the motorcycle breaking the window on the driver’s side on impact. James killed the engine. Relief flooded through him at seeing that his aim was correct. Several inches to the right, and he could’ve hurt Soledad.

  But now they both faced a different kind of danger. The truck swerved on the road. His veins filled with ice. The driver might be hurt. James had to stop the vehicle somehow before it made it to the bridge.

  Too late.

  In mere seconds, they were on the bridge. His mind frantically searched for a way out. Through the window, he saw her moving to the left, and the truck slowed down. Was she pushing on the brakes?

  Still, the vehicle smashed into the railings and… stopped, its front tires already over the edge. It began leaning forward. It was going to drop into the water soon, taking all of them with it.

  He started praying, and it wasn’t difficult at all.

  Through the broken window, he pulled Soledad onto the truck’s bed. She slid onto the seat behind him, and he revved the motorcycle’s engine to life. They flew off the vehicle moments before the it fell through the broken railings. He brought the motorcycle to a stop.

  “We have to help him!” She jumped to the ground.

  “No. We can’t.” He dragged her away from the railings.

  Visibly shaking, she stared into space. He placed a 911 call. While waiting for the police to arrive, he opened his arms, and she walked into them. Sobs shook her body. She had to have a lot of compassion in her heart to grieve someone who’d just tried to harm her.

  A wave of awareness spread through James’s body. He could hold her forever… Longing for something he didn’t have the right to have filled his entire being. But he couldn’t fail Sergey. He couldn’t fail Soledad. In order to protect her, he had to maintain a strictly professional relationship with her. No matter how difficult it was going to be.

  * * *

  Soledad clung to James as they hit the road again after giving information to the police. But his muscles seemed to tense in her embrace. Why?

  She stared at the fields and trees with an occasional lake
that passed by her side in a blur. They still hadn’t found the Fabergé egg. Was her stepfather right? Was she worthless? Maybe she wasn’t good enough, smart enough to figure out the clues, and her father — and herself — could die because of that?

  Remembering what James had told her, she squared her shoulders. Nobody can put you down.

  She thanked God for keeping them alive.

  As they were passing through a small town, James stopped at a store and bought and activated two cell phones.

  He handed her one. “Turn off your phone and throw it away. Use this one. I should’ve done this a long time ago.” His voice was gruff.

  Sighing inwardly, she took the phone. She missed the natural-born charmer he’d been before. She called Chief Dawson, gave him her new phone number, and informed him of the recent developments.

  “How is Aidan?” she asked when she was done.

  “Better,” Dawson said. “Do you need any… other help?”

  “I’m fine.” She recalled the barrel of the gun in her back and swallowed hard.

  After she disconnected, James said, “We’ll have to trade the motorcycle for something else.”

  “Let me guess. It’s compromised?”

  “That, too. But there might be some damage after crashing into the truck’s window. I don’t want to take any chances. Robert isn’t going to be happy, but I’ll pay him back.”

  “You have a friend living in a nearby city, and you’re going to call in a favor. Right?”

  “How did you guess?” There was that twinkle in his eyes again that made her wonderfully dizzy.

  “Just how many friends do you have? And how many big favors can you call in?” she muttered as she settled on the back of the motorcycle. “Enough to drive through the entire United States?”

  “Probably.”

  About half an hour later, she was riding shotgun in a brand new apple-red sedan. She took in a lungful of the new-car smell, hoping this mode of transportation would fare better than the motorcycle.

  She said a prayer, grateful that her Mom had taken her to church when she’d been little and had taught her to believe. God was always with her. But how could she help James regain his faith?

  “May I ask why you stopped being a believer?” she asked carefully.

  “My parents took me to church,” he said after a long pause. “They were upstanding citizens of the community. But they behaved differently when nobody saw them. They didn’t seem to love each other, their neighbor, or me. They didn’t seem to love God. I felt they were such hypocrites. Melissa suggested we should go to church, and we did. But she turned out to be a fraud.”

  “You had bad examples. But don’t turn away from God because of that. There are plenty of kind, caring, honest people who truly believe in God. They don’t pretend to worship God. Your friend Luke, for example.”

  “You’re right.” His face brightened. “I prayed for you today.”

  “The Lord heard your prayer. I’m alive,” she whispered. “But it’s not enough to pray. Accept God fully into your life…” She paused, lost for words, and asked silently God to help her.

  “It’s a start,” he said quietly.

  Another layer of protection around her heart melted away. She sent him an encouraging smile. “Yes, it is a great start.” And she’d walk with him in the journey of growing stronger in faith for as long as she was allowed to.

  * * *

  They reached the outskirts of Austin. Soledad liked this city, especially its vibrant art world. One day she’d like to come here again, browse museums, visit festivals. If she lived past tomorrow, of course, but she pushed that thought away. She wouldn’t let fear consume her.

  God is in control. Always.

  James took an exit leading to a hospital and pulled up to an empty spot. He killed the engine. “I want you to get checked.”

  She hiked up her chin. “I’m fine.”

  “I want the doctor to tell me that.”

  “I’ll do it if you have your bandage changed.” She surrendered, but on her terms.

  He grunted but nodded, and they headed to the ER.

  Surprisingly, it wasn’t as crowded as she’d expected it to be. As she breathed in the scents of medicine and human worry, she looked through the female names on her phone again until the letters became fuzzy. She hid her face in his T-shirt, the scent of his aftershave comforting. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she surrendered to a muggy sleep.

  A slight tap on her shoulder pulled her out of a dream where she and James were riding horses on the river bank.

  “They are ready to see you,” he whispered in her ear.

  His warm breath on her cheek was so welcoming that it took her a moment to realize that she was in the ER.

  An hour later, she had a clean bill of health, and he had his bandage changed. He drove to the nearest hotel, and they hurried inside. A couple of times his hand brushed against hers, but judging by the way he withdrew it immediately, it was purely by accident.

  She waited for James to do the usual sweep of the room. Then he gestured for her to come in. She did so and took a seat. “I want to run some ideas by you. I have a feeling the hint is related to a profession. Maybe it’s about the place where Flor works.”

  Amusement danced in his eyes. “Do you think she works in a swamp?”

  “Be serious. I think she works or worked at a French restaurant. Frog legs are often associated with French cuisine.”

  “I heard they taste like chicken.”

  “Never tried them,” she said.

  “Now will be your chance. Something tells me we’re going to visit a French restaurant soon.”

  After searching the Internet, she had a list of French restaurants in Austin, its surroundings, and all the way to south Texas, to be on the safe side. She called every one of them, asking to speak to Flor. But she was getting nowhere.

  She punched in the twenty-fifth number and asked for Flor.

  “She quit two days ago,” the youthful voice answered.

  “Would you be able to tell me how I could find her?” Soledad held her breath.

  “I don’t think I can give out that kind of information.” There was a pause. “And anyway, I tried to call her yesterday and her phone was disconnected.”

  Soledad thanked the girl and hung up.

  “This place is about forty minutes away from Austin,” James said.

  She tried the rest of the numbers, but nowhere else she could find someone with the name Flor.

  She pulled up the website and the menu of the twenty-fifth restaurant on her phone. “I don’t think they serve frog legs.”

  “They probably just call them by a different name.” James smiled.

  She found a translation on the Internet. “I’ll avoid anything that sounds like cuisses de grenouille.” She headed toward the door.

  He caught up with her immediately and was the first one to step outside. He checked the hall and gestured for her to follow him. She did so without protest. He’d managed to get her out of kidnappers’ hands twice already.

  Thank You, Lord.

  * * *

  James glanced at the speedometer and eased off the gas pedal. He was going way over the speed limit.

  The deadline was fast approaching, and so far his contacts had turned up nothing in the search for Sergey’s kidnappers. He’d considered the clues ridiculous at first, but he was running out of options.

  He needed to find a way to keep Soledad safe, and not only because of his promise to Sergey. Sometime during the events of the past days, she’d become important to him. Much more important than she should have.

  James glanced in the rearview mirror, and his stomach muscles tightened. A black van with tinted windows pulled up behind them. It had Arizona license plates, but when James slowed down, the van slowed down, as well.

  Frowning, he pushed the gas pedal and passed several cars ahead of him. The black van stayed far behind. He allowed himself to relax a fraction.


  “Are you sure the clues are correct?” he asked her.

  She sighed. “No, not at all. It’s just a hunch. The first clue should be who, therefore the name. The second clue might be when, but I figure the answer is now. So I’d make it where. The location. The third clue should be what or why. And that could be a profession, a hobby, a relative, or any additional details that would help us figure out the person’s identity.”

  His phone pinged, signaling an incoming message. He pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, and handed it to Soledad. Texting and driving was dangerous. “That’s probably a list of Flors with a bird last name.”

  She took the phone from his hand. “Let’s see what we have here. Okay, we’ve got Flor Dove, Flor Crane, two by the name Flor Sparrow, Flor Nightingale, and Flor Orlova. Orel means eagle in Russian.”

  “There were fortunately no Flors with Asian last names, so I didn’t have to check if any of them meant a bird.” He chuckled.

  “Wait a minute. Did you check Rios Azules, as well?”

  “I forgot to mention it to you. There’s one Flor in Rios Azules. Her name is Flor Soler.” He checked the rearview mirror, and his stomach twisted into a knot again. The dark van had gained speed and was in close proximity.

  He floored the gas pedal, and the motor growled louder in protest. The van passed them. The passenger window rolled down, and the barrel of a rifle appeared in the opening.

  His blood went cold. He reached to Soledad and pushed down on the nape of her neck. “You’ll need to hide, please. We’ve got company.”

  Glass shattered.

  Chapter Ten

  Soledad screamed. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from screaming again and crouched in her seat.

  “They’re gesturing to the shoulder. They want us to pull over.” James’s voice sounded rough around the edges.

  He called somebody on the hands-free phone. “This is James. I need backup. We’re under attack.” He gave the number of a mile marker and disconnected.