Hot Pursuit (To Catch a Thief Book 1)

by Kay Marie

  Or is it? Jo swallowed, glancing back toward her thighs, mind going to the black laptop and the flash drive resting on top. Could he be staring at those?

  Don’t be silly.

  Jo took a deep breath and tried to force her unease to the side. That man couldn’t possibly have any idea what was on that drive, what she had taken, what her family had done. These were her fears, her insecurities, the ones she’d tried to suppress all day, coming out of hiding, plaguing her in plain sight, no longer willing to be ignored.

  The man was just a man.

  He was probably leering at the sliver of skin exposed by the slit in her long dress. No doubt wondering how she ate what she ate and looked the way she looked—Jo had questioned it herself a million times. Good genes and a six-mile run every day was all she’d ever come up with.

  She let her head fall to the other side, gaze slipping out the window. The skyline of New York was visible beyond the wing of the plane. Her mind wandered to the men she’d left behind. Nate. Thad. Two opposite ends of the pole. One no doubt dealing with the painting they’d stolen the night before, on his way to make a delivery before slipping off the grid for a few days. The other no doubt with his team, torn down the middle by his heart and his head, by the trust he’d given her and the trust he owed to his colleagues, his partner, his family.

  His father, Jo thought with a sigh, munching on another nugget, salty this time, buttery and tangy, a jolt to her system, just as Nate had been. Her heart pinched as she remembered the story he’d confessed the night before, words she somehow knew he hadn’t told anyone else. The promise any boy would make to his father, but only a man like Nate would fight his entire life to uphold. A good person. A loyal one. Someone who followed through on his word. Someone Jo wasn’t sure she deserved.

  I promise.

  The two words haunted her.

  I will do what’s right. I promise you, I will.

  The plane started to move.

  To turn.

  New York slipped away.

  But the memory lingered, grew, expanded.

  They shot down the runway. Jo’s promise shot across her thoughts.

  Racing.

  Speeding.

  Lifting.

  Because she wanted to do the right thing. For once in her life, for this man whose trust she didn’t deserve but somehow earned, for her dreams and her passions and her conscience, she wanted to do what was right. But she still wasn’t completely sure she could.

  Jo looked away from the window as it turned a blinding white. The plane bounced as they catapulted through the clouds. Up and away. To another world. Alone. Her focus latched on to the little seat belt symbol above her head, waiting for it to turn off. Her eyes burned. Her hands trembled. With a ding the light blinked out. A muffled voice came over the loudspeaker, announcing that the use of portable electronics was allowed.

  Jo slowly finished her nuggets.

  Each bite taking longer and longer.

  Until there were none left.

  No more reason to delay.

  She glanced to the passenger at her side, sure he’d been watching her, but his eyes were closed, and his head was tilted back. She swallowed the queasy feeling in her stomach and opened her can of soda. The snap and pop followed by a soft bubbling fizz made her nerves settle. Jo took a long sip, letting the ice-cold liquid slip down her throat, sharp and bursting. And then she lifted the top of her computer and slid the flash drive in before clicking a file at random.

  Federal Bureau of Investigation

  Organized Crime Division

  Subject: Robert Carter

  Jo ripped her M&M’s open and forced herself to keep reading and reading and reading, until the world faded and time drifted away, and everything she thought she’d ever known fell out from underneath her.

  - 28 -

  Nate

  “So we have nothing?” The disgust in the boss’s tone was evident. The fury was too. He slammed a wad of stuffed manila envelopes against the conference table, making everyone jump. “Months and months of work, gone. What the hell happened?”

  All the men and women around the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The boss was not an intimidating man based on looks alone. A little short. Starting to bald. Tanned face leathery from too much sun and full of wrinkles. Broad shoulders with muscles that had begun to turn soft. But the knowledge in his hazel eyes and the iron in his voice, a voice that had chided them all many times before, were enough to make Nate’s blood run cold.

  “Anyone want to tell me how this operation got royally fucked? Anyone? No volunteers?” Nate froze when that shrewd gaze landed on him. “Parker? What the hell happened with the daughter? I thought we had a lead?”

  He cleared his throat, sitting straighter. “We might still have a lead, sir. I haven’t ruled it out.”

  The boss arched one thick brow, staring at him with disbelief. “Let me get this straight. She turned down your offer of immunity. Ran away from you. Helped Ryder steal the painting. And then vanished in the middle of the night. And what? You think it was an elaborate ruse? Tell me what I’m missing here, Parker, because I’d really love to know.”

  It took every ounce of self-control Nate possessed to not glance at Leo across the conference table. But he was trained in interrogation tactics, and he knew body language could give away far more than words ever would. “That’s correct, sir. I have a hunch—”

  “A hunch?” the boss roared. Nate didn’t flinch. “A fucking hunch? Parker, you got played. We all got played.”

  “I think she just wanted time, sir, to do things her own way. Jolene Carter isn’t the type to be bossed around or cornered into anything.”

  Well, that was mostly true. But somehow, Nate highly doubted the boss wanted to know that the only time Jo didn’t mind being dominated was in the bedroom. He clenched his teeth as images of their night flooded his thoughts, the sound of her sighs, the feel of her skin, the weight of her body as she straddled his—

  “Parker?” the boss said loudly, giving Nate the distinct impression it hadn’t been the first time.

  He tried to swallow the sudden tightness in his throat and other places away. “Sir?”

  The boss stared at him for a moment and then scoffed, turning to another agent. “Samuels, do we have locations? An update? Anything?”

  “Nothing new, sir. Jolene Carter was spotted at the airport. Spent a lot of time circling the shops. She picked up a few cookies, put them back, but there were no notes underneath. An agent followed her to a few food stores and coffee places, no purchases but some candy and a soda. No obvious interactions. The only person we saw her talk to was the cashier at a soft pretzel place, and that was a routine order.”

  The corner of Nate’s lip lifted. Sounds like Jo.

  “Her plane,” Samuels continued, scrolling a tablet for more updates. “Looks like it took off about forty-five minutes ago. Scheduled to land in two and a half hours. Our agent saw her board and waited for the doors to close before leaving. A ground crew searched her checked luggage but there was nothing of interest, and we didn’t have enough evidence for an arrest to seem worthwhile.”

  “And Ryder?”

  Samuels winced and glanced at the floor. “Nothing, sir. No one has seen him since he gave us the slip outside the museum last night.”

  The boss grumbled incoherently. A vein pulsed in his forehead. “How is that possible? Have we checked the street cameras? Anything?”

  “All the cameras within a few blocks were tampered with, and we have men searching all the others, trying to locate a man of Ryder’s description at around the time of the theft, but so far nothing. He disappeared.”

  “He’s not a fucking magician,” the boss growled.

  Might as well be.

  “So we’ve got no prints, no hair follicles, no DNA?” the boss said, turning to one of the forensics guys for confirmation, which he gave, reluctantly. “And we’ve got no video footage, no way to tie the bugs in the
security system to Jolene Carter, and no way to place either of them at the scene?” He glanced at the tech team. Again, a silent, hesitant nod was the only response. “And Ryder has vanished off the face of the earth like a fucking Houdini?”

  No one bothered to respond that time.

  Judging by the boss’s tone, any answer wouldn’t have been received kindly anyway.

  “Well, what the hell do we have, boys and girls?”

  “The homeowner has given us everything he has on the painting…”

  Nate tuned it out. He’d heard it all before. And it was all crap. Fluffy, shiny, bulked-up and well-packaged bullshit. All they had was Jo. And it would be hours, hell, days before he heard from her, if he ever did again.

  The phone in his pocket buzzed.

  Nate’s entire body jerked into motion as he hastily silenced the vibration. Leo shot him a hopeful look across the table, but there was no way it was Jo. Not so soon. He knew better than to hope, so he shook his head at his partner.

  The phone buzzed again.

  What the hell?

  He silenced the call, but this time pulled the cell out of his pocket far enough to read an unknown number across the screen.

  Spam?

  Now?

  Really?

  He shoved it back into his pocket.

  Thirty seconds later, the fucking thing buzzed again.

  “Oh, for god’s sake,” he grumbled as every eye in the room turned in his direction. “Sorry, sir.”

  “No problem at all, Parker. I wouldn’t want a little thing like an international crisis to get in the way of your busy social life. Answer it. I don’t mind.”

  Nate squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. The boss was in rare form. “Really, sir, it’s nothing.”

  “Humor me,” he drawled, voice dry and devoid of any hint of amusement.

  Nate sighed but did as he was told and lifted the phone to his ear. “Parker here.”

  His voice came out deep enough to make Leo hold a fist to his lips to cover up his laughter. He glared at his partner as he waited for a response, any response. But there was only static. Heavy breathing and static.

  “Who is it, Parker? We’re all dying to know.”

  “No one, sir,” Nate said. “Wrong number.”

  Just as he pulled the device from his ear, he heard it.

  Pop! Pop!

  A sound that haunted his nightmares.

  A sound that followed him around in his waking hours, at the practice range, on the job.

  A sound that defined his life.

  Gunshots.

  Oh god. Jo. Jo!

  Nate jumped to his feet, clutching the phone. “Hello? Hello? Who is it?”

  More static.

  Heavy breathing.

  The pounding of boots.

  Scuffs and scrapes he couldn’t identify.

  Just as he was about to say her name, a man’s voice came on the line, controlled in a way that was completely at odds with the noises that had preceded him. “Agent Parker?”

  “Yes. This is Agent Nate Parker. To whom am I speaking?”

  Leo reached across the table with a cord. Nate stuck it into his phone, and the call transferred to the comm set in the middle of the room, putting the unidentified man on speaker. Everyone’s energy shifted, on alert, on the job. No more joking. No more reprimanding. Just business.

  There was no response.

  Just more running. More breathing.

  “Hello?” he tried again. The boss signaled everyone else to shut up and not say a word. He started pointing to various agents, signaling with his hands. Working together long enough meant they didn’t need words. The tech team launched into motion, messaging the agents back at their desks to get tracking on the call immediately. “This is Agent Nate Parker. To whom am I speaking?”

  “I think you know,” came the smooth reply.

  Everything snapped into place. “Ryder? Ryder, is that you?”

  The boss’s eyes bulged. Leo smirked, as if he’d known Nate had a plan all along. But this wasn’t it. This had never been it.

  “Ryder!” he shouted again, smacking his hand against the table in his frustration. “Where—”

  “Jo is in danger,” Ryder interjected, cutting him off.

  Nate’s entire body went still, everything except for his heart, which pounded against his rib cage, a beast turned rabid.

  “I can’t get to her in time. You need to save her.”

  Click.

  The line went dead.

  It happened so fast that for a second, no one moved or spoke.

  “Did we get a location?” The boss broke the silence. Nate heard his voice as though it had come from somewhere far away, slow and muffled. For a moment, he wondered if he had slipped into a dream, because that was what it felt like, out of body. His mind was disconnected, drifting away. The boss was on a boat above the water, and Nate was under the surface, sinking fast, unable to process as the oxygen stopped flowing to his brain. All he heard was—

  Pop!

  Pop!

  Pop!

  “I want agents on the ground immediately. Call the local precinct. Have them send patrol cars. Warn them there’s an active shooter, armed and dangerous. Their goal is to stall until we have Feds on the scene. This might be our only chance to get Ryder.”

  Ryder?

  Nate shook his head.

  Ryder?

  He came alive in a single second. “What about Jo?”

  Everyone paused, turning to the boss for guidance.

  “What about Jo? Her plane won’t land for another two hours, and we have Ryder on the ground now, possibly injured. I don’t give a fuck about Jo.”

  “Sir—”

  “Parker.”

  Nate was one word away from leaping across the table and wringing his boss’s neck, consequences be damned. “Sir—”

  “Nate’s right. We need Jolene Carter,” Leo stepped in. Their eyes met across the table and in a second, Nate and his partner had an entire conversation. Leo was on his side. Leo wanted to help. Leo was the voice of reason, whereas Nate was about to explode. “Without the daughter, we have no leverage on Robert Carter. Even if we get enough to arrest him, we need something to hold over his head, something to use against him. The only way we’ll get him to talk is with the promise of his daughter’s freedom and her safety. We need her. Alive and unharmed.”

  I need her, Nate thought, the realization a knife to his chest. I need her. Alive and unharmed and in my arms immediately.

  The boss considered it for a moment. “Fine. Parker, Alvarez, you’re on the daughter. Everyone else, I want you working on Ryder. Let’s move it, people.”

  Needing no more prompting, they all raced from the room. Nate and Leo ran to the temporary desks that had been set up for them in the New York office, and hurriedly signed on to the clunky desktop computers.

  “Do we request an emergency landing?” Nate asked his partner, his right knee bouncing at an uncontrollable rate as he spun in his chair. “Somewhere in the States? We could have local police waiting?”

  Leo scrunched his cheeks, thinking. “Eh, I don’t know. If there’s a hitman on the flight with her, an emergency landing might spook him into action. We both know he wouldn’t need a gun to make his move. Bare hands might be enough, especially if he acted fast enough, during landing when everyone was belted in.”

  The idea made Nate queasy. “What then?”

  “Let’s get to the Bahamas as fast as we can. My guess is they’ll try to hit Jo and her father at once, kill two birds with one stone, and destroy the evidence on the island. They must suspect foul play to have gone after Ryder. They’ll want to wipe the slate clean. But we can get to her first if we play this right. I know we can.”

  “I’ll search for flights to Nassau,” Nate said with a firm nod.

  “I’m already calling Air Traffic Control to see if they can stall Jo’s flight until we get there to intercept it.”

  “One’s lea
ving from Newark in forty-five minutes.” The flight was sold out, and they’d never make it in time. But that didn’t matter. Sometimes, it’s good to be a Fed. “I’ll call the airline on the way to reserve seats. Tell Air Traffic Control they need to hold the flight.”

  “Will do. I’m being transferred. Book a boat for when we land, just in case we’re too late.”

  “Already on it.”

  They went back and forth a few more times. Within five minutes, they hastily rushed out the door with nothing but their guns, badges, and wallets as they hailed a cab. Nate didn’t give a damn about the suits hanging in his hotel closet. The shoes. The belts. The boss would have someone grab them. All Nate cared about was Jo. Was getting to her in time.

  Pop!

  Pop!

  Pop!

  The memory made him flinch. He couldn’t be late—he wouldn’t be late.

  Not this time.

  Not with her.

  Not again.

  - 29 -

  Jo

  When the wheels touched down in Nassau, Jo jolted in her seat at the impact. She blinked a few times, clearing the water from her eyes, but couldn’t clear the daze. Her mind was a jumbled mess.

  Russians.

  And hitmen.

  And arms deals.

  And money laundering.

  And human trafficking.

  And those were just the words. The pictures that had come with them—

  Jo shook her head and lifted her fingers to her lips, coughing as she fought to contain the physical manifestation of her disgust. Nate had been right. These were bad people. Horrific people. And her father had helped them. Jo saw the evidence clear as day. Some of the artwork she’d helped steal had been used as collateral payment for illegal arms deals with terrorist organizations, some for things even worse than that, things she couldn’t bear thinking about. Forgeries she’d seen her father create in his studio had been used to cheat and steal and lie. All the meeting dates had lined up with trips her father and Thad had taken, telling her they were going to the mainland for supplies. All the proof Nate needed was right there in his files, but Jo was the missing piece, the person who could tie it all together and confirm his suspicions. After finally opening her eyes to the truth, she knew exactly what she needed to do.