She coughed, opened her bloodshot eyes. “Bad guy dead?” Her voice cracked with the effort.
“Yes, dear, very dead.”
She nodded, croaked. “Good…deal. Gemma…safe room.”
Jack tossed a sofa throw over the decedent, left the great room.
“It’s all right, baby. Jack’s gone to get her. It’s all over.”
“Senator…dead…kitchen.” Kacey’s chest heaved with the effort of breathing, but her color seemed to improve with each deep breath. Except for the dull red ring around her throat, of course.
“That’s Jack’s problem. If the guy is already dead, let the Fibbies deal with it. You can fill us in later. Right now, just relax. Jonah’s on his way, but it will take him a while to get here. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the time being.”
She acknowledged that with a barely there nod, then closed her eyes again. “Tired.” Her hand went to her throat. “Hurts.”
“I know, baby, I know. Just stay with me, all right?” He ignored the thickening blood on her clothing, gathered her into his arms. With her hands clasped behind his neck, he carried her through the kitchen, down the hallway to her bedroom. Jack had covered Mansfield’s body with a sheet before he’d gone to retrieve Gemma.
In the bedroom, Nate lifted Kacey’s T-shirt. He stopped when he realized her cotton pants were stuck to her skin. He tucked a towel under her, soaked the blood-stained section of fabric with the contents of a bottle of saline solution from the medicine cabinet to separate the pants from her flesh. He was finally able to slip the garment off her body. Shit, she’s gone commando again.
He did his best to ignore her nakedness, then cursed a blue streak at the damage. He kept his remarks to a low mumble. The bad news: both wounds had opened, front and back. The front was worse. The good news: the blood oozed sluggishly, didn’t flow freely. He irrigated the areas with more saline, cleaned off the blood, pressed thick non-stick gauze pads over the holes, then taped her up—again.
Grumbles indicated her level of discomfort, but Kacey held steady. When Nate was finished, he pulled the hem of a fresh shirt down to her thighs. He handed her a glass of water, then two tablets of her pain meds. If she persisted in being targeted by bullets and wrestled to the floor by large mercenaries, the prescription would definitely need to be refilled.
He took the empty glass, leaned over, kissed her forehead. “Can’t I ever leave you alone? I go for a simple run in the woods, and all hell breaks loose. You’re always bleeding on me. What’s that all about?”
She shifted, and another whimper escaped, her voice raspy. “Trust me…wasn’t…on my…to-do list.”
With a crash that sounded as if she’d ricocheted off the wall in the hallway, Gemma nearly catapulted into the room. Nate caught her around the waist before she landed on the bed and on the patient.
She must have seen the bloody garments. “Miss Kacey? Oh no, Miss Kacey, did you get shot again?”
Nate tucked the excited girl-child under his arm, then placed her in the chair by the window. He pointed. “Stay put, and don’t jump around like a monkey. No, she didn’t get shot this time. Just too much activity—her wounds opened up. She’ll be okay.” Gemma doesn’t need to know all the gory details.
“But her neck is all red and bruised. Looks like fingerprints.”
Okay, so maybe the kid already knew.
Still dressed in dirty, sweat-soaked clothing and his shoulder holster, Jack completed the Fantastic Four. “A crime scene survey team is on the way to process the site and take out the…remove the deceased.”
“I heard gunshots and yelling.” Gemma pulled her legs up, rested her chin on her knees. “Is my father dead?”
Closing the gap between them in a few steps, Jack put his arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Yes, he is. I’m so sorry, Gemma.”
She shrugged. “He wasn’t here to save me and take me home, was he?”
Nate’s heart twisted as Jack tried to soften the blow. “Sweetheart, we don’t know for sure what he planned to do.”
“I do. He would have given me back to the big man. He wasn’t gonna protect me. I knew it.”
Nate pulled the other side chair up to the edge of the mattress, held Kacey’s hand. “Ah, yes, the big man. Willem Bruin, aka William Brown.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Who’s Bruin?”
“Trust me, he is…was…not a bodyguard. Afrikaans mercenary. He’d shaved his head, used colored contacts. If he’d shown up white-blond with those ice blue eyes, it would have been instant recognition. A stone-cold brutal bastard, murder for the highest bidders. He’d come across our radar a time or two. Slippery little devil.”
Kacey roused herself, did her best to clear her throat. Nate handed her a bottle of water. “Thanks. Jack, the senator…leak…direct line…kidnappers.”
“No way.”
With the help of another drink of water, hand to throat, Kacey forced the words out. Her voice still froggy, she told him what she could.
“Way. In the kitchen, Bruin ratted out Senator, said he needed wife’s money for his…ah…” she glanced at Gemma, “expensive habits, but the money went to Gemma in trust. Senator wanted bucks, Bruin wanted girl.” Another sip of water helped her continue. “Sounded like Senator arranged kidnapping to split the ransom, five mil would have gone into his pocket. He must have either known or learned about the kidnap clause, which would release the funds.”
Kacey caught Gemma’s downward-staring eyes, patted the bed on the side opposite Nathan. “C’mere, kiddo.”
After Gemma moved, Jack took over her empty side chair, then shook his head. “Don’t know Bruin, he must have had a talent for flying under the radar. Didn’t make the connection. During the struggle, Kace must have knocked loose, or scratched loose, one of the colored lenses. The body—sorry, Gemma—has one blue eye, one brown.”
Settled next to Kacey, Gemma sighed. “It’s okay.”
“Okay, so, if Kacey is correct, there’s your leak,” Nate piped up. “The senator, or Bruin, fed Jack’s rescue plan directly to Bruin’s men. Bye-bye FBI rescue team, bye-bye ten million.” Tough thing for a kid to hear about her parent, but it’s going to be public knowledge, splashed all over the news media before too much longer. Will probably go viral on YouTube.
“But the Russians…” Jack began.
Kacey interrupted. “The Russians held Gemma, but Bruin kidnapped her.”
“No way.”
She sighed again. “Way.”
Gemma snugged closer to Kacey.
Jack stared at the girl. “But he was your father’s bodyguard, you would have met him.”
She shook her head. “No. Never saw him before.”
“Damn. We vetted all the employees. He didn’t show up as a new hire.” He turned to Kacey. “How did you know?”
“Other than the fact that he set off alarms in my brain as soon as he walked in, I didn’t. Our girl Gemma recognized the smell. The guy had a jones for peppermint patties. Then, she was smart enough to pull me out of the kitchen without tipping our hand.”
Kacey grinned, then took another sip of water to sooth her throat. “Gemma would make a top-shelf FBI agent, Cannon. Put on a totally convincing act, considering how slow I was on the uptake. You might want to keep her in mind as a future recruit.”
Gemma, her arms still wrapped around her legs, chin on knees, gave a giggle. “Maybe I would if they let me fly.”
Shaking his head, Jack blew out a sigh. “The kid’s trying to make deals with the FBI. She’s already spent too much time with Kacey.”
Propping his feet on the bed, Nate asked the nagging question. “What I still want to know is how the hell the bad guys found us all the way out here? Who sent the backup goon squad? Those boys were equipped, they weren’t hired on a street corner. Our satcom communications were totally secure. No land lines. No Wi-Fi. No computer.”
Jack threw his hands up. “Don’t have a clue. Our only links are now dead links, so we
can’t exactly question them.”
Gemma’s voice came across quietly, barely audible. “I know who did it. I tried to tell Miss Kacey. It was my fault.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sure it wasn’t.” Kacey managed a weak smile. She appeared to be fading, fast.
“Yes, it really was. It’s my fault those men found us. I took a cell phone from the kitchen, one of those burn things, after we got here, after everyone went to bed or was outside, guarding. I called Mrs. Bennett, she’s our housekeeper, then I put the phone back exactly where I found it. I just wanted to let her know I was okay, and to tell Mr. Solomon and Miss Halloran. They’re my friends, I didn’t want them to worry. But I made her promise not to tell my father, ’cause I knew she could keep a secret.” She sniffled as tears formed. “I told Mrs. Bennett that a nice lady was watching me. I’m sorry I stole the phone, and that the bad men found us again.”
Nate’s eyebrow rose. “Jack, didn’t the FBI monitor the senator’s communications?”
“Of course. But protecting senators, per se, is not under the purview of the FBI, the Secret Service, or the CIA. Not even Homeland Security, in most instances. We were involved because of the kidnapping. Bruin’s—Brown’s—background check indicated he’d been on the senator’s payroll for over five years, and his résumé didn’t raise any red flags. Someone did outstanding work on his cover—that had to be a seriously high-dollar job, and I’d like to know who did the work.”
Sitting back in the seat, Nate cocked his head, steepled his fingers. “So, Bruin had everything bugged, probably from outside the house. Clever bastard.”
Kacey’s face quirked into a half-assed grin as the pain meds kicked in. “It wasn’t Colonel Mustard in the drawing room, nor the butler in the pantry. It was Mr. Brown in the chalet.”
Nate was relieved when Gemma chuckled, then tried to hide her smile in her hands. Resilient kid—she might not come out of this too badly.
With a shake of his head, Nate herded the other two out of the room. “On that note, I think it’s time for Miss Kacey to have a nap. Gemma, into the library or out to the pool, at least until the Fibbies show up and do whatever they’re going to do. I’ll whip up something for lunch.”
“But my father, y’know, he’s, well, is he still in the kitchen?”
“Not to worry, sugar plum, I’ll manage something. Go on, scoot, off with you. Library or pool. Cool off in the pool, then read something. I know there’s canned chicken in the cupboard, mayo and celery in the fridge—so, how about a chicken salad sandwich?”
She nodded, actually managed a little smile, then proceeded to the reading room.
Nathan shook his head. “Boy oh boy, that’s some great kid.”
After Nate planted a light kiss on slumbering Kacey’s forehead, Jack accompanied him into the kitchen. Nate lifted the sheet and checked out the dead senator. “Nice shot. Bruin didn’t mess around, did he?”
“Apparently not.” Jack glanced around the kitchen, checked out the array of bullet holes in the cabinets and ceiling. “Kacey or Bruin?”
Nate couldn’t help the grin. “Both, probably, but I’d bet on Kacey for the bulk of it. Probably to warn us.” He began to collect the makings for lunch. “Sandwich?”
A nod indicated food would be welcomed. “Weatherly, old son, you have a hell of a woman there. I hope you appreciate her. If I wasn’t already married—”
“Oh, I do, chief, I do. If I can just get through her thick skull.”
Jack chuckled. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. I spent some time shooting skeet with her dad, and actually met her granddad before he passed on. I should warn you, she comes from a long line of stubborn, argumentative, thick Irish skulls. Living with her would be sorta like keeping a cheetah for a pet. Sweet and lovable, until provoked.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Chapter Seventeen
Nate and Jack were showered and changed, and Gemma out by the pool with the last Harry Potter book, by the time Jonah arrived to tend to Kacey’s wounds—one more time. About an hour later, the FBI Evidence Response Team unit showed up. Clipboard in hand, the supervising Agent in Charge, Malloy, shook his head at Jack.
“Cannon, this is the fourth time we’ve been called out to clean up after you in a bloody week. Don’t you think a break in the action would be good, maybe some time off from the job? There’s an idea. Why don’t you take that pretty wife of yours on vacation or something. Better yet, I’ll take your pretty wife on vacation. Jeez, I don’t know why she puts up with such a worn out fuddy-duddy like you.”
“No way, Malloy. If you take the wife, you get the divas, too.”
Malloy’s head bobbed like a bird’s. “Hell, then it’s no deal. I already raised my kids, and the word around the Bureau is that your two little sweeties are high maintenance. Now, go away, and let the real specialists work.”
Nate shook his head at the exchange. Maybe one day he’d be eligible to join the nut-busting about who gets to take the kids, and not be left standing outside the circle as the perennial bachelor.
The thought produced a tingle along his spine, followed by an actual ache in his testicles. Could he do it? Could he be a real dad, like those guys? Like his own dad, who was still the world’s best? Would Kacey give him the chance?
Nate knocked before entering Kacey’s room. Jonah finished hanging a clear IV bag on the hook, with a lacey designer bra looped in his fingers.
“Another round of antibiotics. The wound at the back of her waist already closed up again, and should heal nicely. The wound to the front, not so good. The edges are raw from being ripped opened, tiny cloth fibers ground into the wound. Picked out what I could, but I’m worried about infection. That one may leave a fairly sizeable scar.” He began to collect the cast-offs from his bandaging party.
Nate raised an eyebrow. “And the bra? I’m almost afraid to hear the answer. I must say, it doesn’t quite look like your style. You strike me as more the sports bra type.”
In response, Jonah flipped him the bird. “Kace used it to hang the Sig under her shirt.”
“I see.” He gave her a look, and she shrugged in response. “Of course she did.”
“She’d probably be more comfortable with the other bra off as well, but I was busy trying to get the bleeding plugged up again.”
Apparently still under the influence of another round of pain meds as well as being a few comments behind, Kacey humphed. “Scars? Who cares about a few more scars? Not planning to model beach wear any time soon.”
Jonah chuckled. “Now, that’s something I’d pay to see. A Marine Captain in a thong bikini, the new U.S.M.C. poster girl. Hoorah!”
Even though he considered Jonah to be his best friend, Nate shot a squinty-eyed look his way. Mine, he wanted to shout. Hands off. Fella, don’t even look at my woman with that attitude. Kacey was his, and he wasn’t sharing.
Ball-busting aside, the other guys knew she belonged to him. Even Barracuda knew it. The problem remained—how to convince Kacey that she belonged to him. His beautiful, scarred up, banged up, shot up, intelligent, argumentative, sexy, red-headed firebrand, his very own Irish daredevil. Whether she liked it or not, he wasn’t letting her go. Not this time.
Jonah snapped shut his medical bag. “Okay, chief. I have appointments at the clinic, so I can’t stay over. Once the drip bag is emptied, secure the clip on her hand to tie off the tubing, then unhook the line from her IV. If you’re coming to town tomorrow, swing by to see me before you head to Timberwyck so I can remove the IV setup and check out the situation. If you’re not going to make it to town, call me and I’ll take a quick trip out here. Gotta go.”
The doctor leaned in, kissed his drowsy patient on the forehead. “Sleep well, kiddo. Don’t forget to take your meds before you reach the agony stage. You’ll heal faster if you’re not fighting the pain. Trust me on this.”
As Jonah exited the room, Gemma entered, dressed in her black jeans and sparkly top. “Hi, Miss Kacey.”
&nb
sp; Kace stirred from her half-doze. “Hey, sweetie-button. You all packed and ready to go?”
“Uh huh. Agent Cannon said Zia Louisa is already waiting for me in Kennebunkport.”
“Zia Louisa?”
“Auntie Louisa. My mom’s sister. I guess we have some big meeting about the family and my trust fund and all that stuff. Zia Louisa said I could move to Tuscany with her and Zio Tomas and my cousins. Four boy cousins.” She rolled her eyes, looking very adult. “Uncle Tomas is a diplomat, so he flies to D.C. all the time. My mom and I visited their villa every year—I like it there. But I don’t want to leave Mrs. Bennett and Miss Halloran and Mr. Solomon.”
“When you get back, why don’t you discuss it with your aunt? She sounds like a very understanding person. Maybe you guys can work something out.”
Gemma tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway. “I’ll miss you, Miss Kacey. And you, Captain Weatherly, I mean Nate. And Barracuda. And all the guys.”
Nate stroked the top of her head. “With the Internet and texting, we’re never that far away, munchkin. You may find the guys on your front step one sunny day. Tuscany isn’t that far, not for us. Maybe a seven- or eight-hour flight.” He handed her a card. “Contact me, and I’ll send you everything you need.”
“Really? You mean it?”
He grinned. “I can’t answer for everyone, but if you talk to the guys, and let them know they’d be welcomed, one can never tell.”
“And wouldn’t SEALs at the front door impress the cousins,” Kacey added.
Gemma’s expression lit up, and her big, brown eyes sparkled.
A thought occurred to him. “Oh, by the way, make sure it’s okay with your aunt and uncle before you invite anyone to visit. Retired or not, a SEAL squad arriving at the villa might make them a bit edgy.”
Gemma grinned, and threw herself at Nate, wrapped her arms around his neck. “You guys are the best!”
Jack leaned against the door frame. “Gemma, ready to go? We’ll grab junk food in town, and still have room for the huge dinner I’m sure Miss Halloran’s cooking up, at whatever time we show up this evening.”
Her Special Forces Page 19