Hot Pursuit (To Catch a Thief Book 1)

by Kay Marie

  Jo followed the horde blindly off the plane, struggling to keep her mind focused on the reality around her and not the fireworks exploding like bombs inside her brain. She waited for her checked bag. The passengers around her grumbled about the delay. Apparently, the flight had taken about an hour longer than expected—a long route due to some unforeseen weather they’d had to fly around. Jo hadn’t noticed a thing. She didn’t even notice her bag on the conveyor belt until it slid right by and out of reach, forcing her to wait another few minutes for it to circle back around.

  “Jolene!”

  Jo recognized the voice immediately. Only one person called her by her full name. She spun, finding her father hastily rushing through the crowd, gaze locked on her. “Daddy?”

  As soon as the word passed through her lips, Jo heard the naiveté laced through it—the youth and the innocence she’d tried desperately to hold on to ever since her mother passed away. Jo had wanted to remain fourteen forever, wanted to stay that little girl who didn’t need to face the fact that her mother was gone, that her father was a criminal, that her typical, normal, simple life had been nothing but a sham.

  But her eyes were open now.

  She was seeing things clearly for the first time. And she was a woman, not a girl, who needed to make things right. “I mean, Dad, what are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to meet you at home? Who’s watching the island?”

  His eyes were dark with worry as they shifted left and right. A deep wrinkle was etched into the curve of his forehead. Not pausing for a beat, her father walked to her side and gripped her biceps hard, tugging her to the side. “We have to leave, pumpkin.”

  “My bag—”

  “Not now,” he said, yanking her behind as he pushed through the crowd.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood with the sudden sense of being watched. Jo let her father pull her forward as she glanced behind, finding the face of the man who had been sitting beside her on the plane, still studying her carefully. Only now, she took note of the awareness in his deep-set hooded eyes, the lack of bags, the fact that she hadn’t heard him speak.

  Is he one of the Russians?

  Are they watching us?

  Jo tripped over her feet and stumbled forward. Her father helped her right her balance, and this time, they moved as one through the crowd. Jo didn’t argue. She did as he’d taught her, not needing him to say when to duck into a store, when to cut a corner, when to hide around a bend or take a route that led in circles. They eventually made it to the parking lot. Her father hot-wired a car and they jumped in before easing onto the street, doing the same thing on the road as they’d done on their feet. In about twice the time it normally took, they made it to a boat dock—a different one than her father typically used. But Jo recognized the yacht at the end of the slip. My Susanna.

  What would her mother say to see them now?

  If she’d known what they’d become?

  What Jo had become?

  She shook her head—those thoughts were better left for another time—and followed her father onto the gleaming white deck, hastily making for the helm. He took the captain’s seat, as expected, and Jo filled in as first mate, a spot she’d taken many times before.

  But never again.

  “What’s going on, Dad?” she asked as they glided out of the port and into open sea. For the first time with her father, Jo’s voice was stern and demanding, not childish and carefree.

  He kept his gaze locked on the horizon. “Don’t you worry, pumpkin. I’ve got it all under control.”

  Ten days ago, that might have worked.

  Now, it wasn’t nearly enough. “I said, what’s going on?”

  He looked at her then, scrutinizing the thin line of her lips, the hard edges carved into her face, the unspoken demand. Something shifted in his features. One instant he was the commanding, suave, confident man she’d always known. And then he blinked. And swallowed. And suddenly he seemed old. Tired. His shoulders hunched ever so slightly. His eyelids dipped to a droop. He released a resigned sigh.

  He knew.

  One look and he knew.

  But Jo pressed the point anyway. “I know everything, Dad. You, Thad, the Russian mafia. What the hell were you thinking? Why? And what is going on?”

  “Thad…” He glanced back at the horizon as he swallowed a tightness in his throat. “Thad called. The meet didn’t go as planned.”

  Jo’s heart leapt into her throat, clogging it with dread. “What? What happened?”

  “Something tipped the Russians off. Thad sensed a shift in his contact, so he ran before they had a chance to act. Last we spoke, I heard gunfire in the background. But Thaddeus is quick on his feet, as smart as anyone I’ve met. I’m sure he got out. He must have gotten out.”

  The repetition of that thought did nothing to quell her nerves. Instead, Jo collapsed into her seat, all her muscles giving out at once.

  Thad.

  Oh my god, Thad.

  Are you okay?

  Are you hurt?

  Are you—

  Jo shook her head, unable to conceive of a life without her best friend—her brother—in it. The world blurred, and then strange bits and pieces came together to form a clear scene, one she didn’t know how to face.

  “It’s my fault,” she confessed softly. The realization made her flinch.

  Her father darted a glance in her direction.

  Jo closed her eyes and squeezed against the pain, the doubts, the fear. “It’s my fault, Dad. They were following me. I was meeting with— I was talking to— I— I—” Jo opened her eyes and found her father’s. They were so similar, the deep green of an old dollar bill or a palm leaf in the shade. But had either of them truly seen each other until this moment? Ever noticed all the minute differences that would tear them apart? “I made a deal with the Feds.”

  He didn’t move.

  Didn’t react.

  He blinked twice and remained silent, waiting for her to continue. Every other inch of him was frozen.

  “An agent approached me, and I don’t really even know why, but I listened to what he had to say. And he told me, about you, about what you were doing. He let me take his files, everything they had on you. He offered me immunity to get you on record, on a wire, to hand you in. And I said no. I wasn’t going to do it. But I have to, Dad, don’t you see? We have to. Together.”

  “Jolene…” His tone was a strange mix of defiance and resignation, of fight and surrender, and it trailed off into silence, as though unsure which side should win out.

  “They are evil, Dad. Evil. How could you— What in the world—” She broke off as her voice cracked. But one single word was all she needed to say. It came out rough and demanding, as hard as the diamond engagement ring she knew he still wore around his neck, the one belonging to her mother. “Why?”

  He stood from his chair and knelt before her, taking both of her hands in his, looking up into her eyes so she couldn’t look away, forcing her to listen. The lines of his face were protective and caring, fatherly in a way that brought her back to the last time they’d sat like this, in a sterile hospital waiting area, when he told her that her mother had died. He’d sent her from the room so she wouldn’t hear those ragged, gurgling breaths, but Jo had listened with her ear pressed to the door, her eyes straining to see through the frosted glass, holding on for dear life to those last moments. It felt the same now. Like an end of something. The end of her youth perhaps. The end of believing her father was a hero. The realization that he was a man, just a man like any other, who had made mistakes—grave, terrible mistakes.

  “We did it to protect you,” he said softly.

  “Protect—”

  “Let me finish, Jolene,” he scolded, voice gentle but not to be disobeyed.

  Oddly, that conviction calmed her, because it reminded her of the father she knew, the one she loved. Jo shut her mouth and did what she was told, something completely against her nature—she listened.

&n
bsp; “When Thad’s father died, I was planning to retire. Thad was about to graduate college. You know this, you remember. I saw that you’d held yourself back, remained home out of worry for me, out of loyalty to me, and I knew I had to let my old life go. Give you and Thad both a chance to be better, to be different. I was all set to cut off ties with my contacts, some friends, some not, and I left the island to do just that. But when I landed in the States, I was intercepted by members of the Russian mafia, thrown into a van, bag over my head, gun to my neck, and taken to a meeting point. When I got there, they told me Thad’s father, the partner I’d worked with all my life, had been working with them on the side. I had no idea. At first, I didn’t believe them, but the proof was right before my eyes. Photographs. Phone logs. Messages. And they told me they’d killed him because he’d been about to go to the Feds.”

  Jo gasped. “But the car crash—”

  “Deliberate. They messed with his brakes in a way that was undetectable by the cops, made to look like a malfunction, not foul play. But it was murder. And then they told me I had a choice—finish the work my partner had started or watch my only child, my daughter, die.”

  Jo’s mouth dropped open, but she was too shocked to speak.

  “They knew I’d rather be killed than work for them, but they knew I would never risk your life, so I agreed. And when I got back to the island, Thad was there. One look in his eyes and I knew he’d been offered the same deal. So we kept you out of it as best we could and did what we were told, to keep you safe. Always to keep you safe.”

  Jo took a long, uneven breath, hating the only question that had come to mind, but unable to stop herself from asking it. “Am I safe, Dad? Are you? Is Thad?”

  No.

  They both knew the answer.

  Jo could see her father teetering, one foot balanced on the edge as he fought not to fall one way or the other. “This was supposed to be the last job.”

  “Do you really believe that?” She squeezed his hands, forcing him to listen. “Do you really think they would’ve ever let you go?”

  He held her gaze but didn’t say a word.

  “Let’s end this, Dad. The Feds will keep us safe. I—I trust them. We’ll never be able to make things right. We’ll never be able to reverse the horrible things we’ve been a part of. But we can stop it. Here. Now. We can stop them. All it will take is one phone call.”

  Please, she added silently. Please, Dad, please.

  But she couldn’t bring herself to beg. Not with her father. The small part of her still holding on to the belief that he was a good man deep down wouldn’t let her. He had to make this decision for himself. Jo’s choice would be the same either way—either her father would confess or she would confess for him, no matter the consequence.

  He lifted his palm to her cheek. His hand was warm from the sun, soft the way it always had been, loving. Jo covered his fingers with her own, feeling the wrinkles on his hand she hadn’t noticed before, noticing the silver sheen of his hair, the deep grooves around his eyes. But when she met his gaze, he didn’t look old. He looked lighter. Full of a bright glow nothing could dampen. Freed from a weight that had made the years longer.

  “Will you ever forgive me, pumpkin?”

  Jo squeezed his hand as a tear spilled from the corner of her eye. “Of course, Daddy.” She couldn’t stop the endearment from slipping out. “I love you.”

  He nodded. Jo could see the walls come up, the defenses refortify. He stood from the floor and went back to the captain’s chair, where he sat tall, with dignity, with newfound strength. “Make the call, Jolene.”

  Like father, like daughter. Jo wiped the salty droplet from her cheek and took a deep breath, pushing the emotions back as she straightened her spine and reached into her purse for her phone, getting back to business. She’d completely forgotten to turn it off airplane mode when she’d landed, too wrapped up in her thoughts, so she did so now, waiting for the signal to connect. As soon as it did, her phone began to buzz with missed calls, voicemails, and messages. Half were from Thad and half from Nate.

  Jo clicked on Thad’s first, then put the receiver to her ear. She flinched at every gunshot, holding on to the calmness in his voice as he warned her to run, not an ounce of accusation in the tone, only fear—fear for her, not for himself.

  Oh, Thad.

  Jo sighed when the line went dead, a heavy weight in her chest. But there was nothing else from him. No messages. No more calls.

  He’s alive.

  He’s alive.

  He’s Thad. He’s the king of the getaway.

  He’s fine.

  He’s safe.

  Jo wanted to believe it, but deep down, she didn’t. Deep down, there was nothing but a pit of dread, a chasm growing wider and wider by the second.

  She didn’t bother to read Nate’s messages. She needed a distraction now, immediately.

  “Jo?” His voice sounded rushed.

  “Nate.” She breathed the word, so it sounded almost like a sigh of relief. Just hearing his voice made everything seem a little easier to manage. Her father glanced over, frowning at her tone, at the affection she hadn’t bothered to veil.

  “Jo! Are you all right? Are you safe? Leo and I are here. We’re in a boat, on our way. I must have just missed you at the airport. I thought I— I thought you— I thought—”

  “I’m okay,” Jo soothed. Her gaze darted out the window, to the island only a few hundred yards away. “I’m almost home. My father picked me up. I think, maybe, someone was on the plane watching me, but we got away before he could do anything. We’re fine.”

  “Ohthankgod.” It came out in a whoosh, one connected thought. Jo smiled, perfectly able to envision how he must have been sitting, his thumb and pointer finger squeezing the ridge of his nose, all stress and hard lines, until her assurance forced the tension away, finally letting his firm muscles release. “Are you sure the island is safe?”

  “I don’t see any foreign vessels,” she said slowly, skimming the shoreline for anything out of the ordinary. Jo glanced to her father. “Dad, has the alarm been disturbed? Were the motion cameras alerted to any activity?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve been checking the system every ten minutes since the moment I left. No one’s been inside the house.”

  “Once we get inside, they won’t be able to touch us,” Jo told Nate. The glass was bulletproof. The vault acted as a safe room. Hidden cameras would give her a view of the entire property. Steel bars could be dropped in front of all the entrances at the push of a button. And she could dispense tear gas from the air ducts if she needed to. The island villa wasn’t just a home—it was a fortress, designed for this exact purpose. “You don’t have to worry. And, Nate, I have good news.”

  Her father pulled into the slip.

  “What?” Nate asked over the line, hesitant.

  Jo followed her father out of the cabin and leapt over the edge of the boat, onto the dock, happy to have solid ground beneath her feet, happy to be home safe. She signaled him to keep walking, that she’d take care of the boat. As she tied the rope, phone squished between her shoulder and her ear, she said, “My father agreed to confess.”

  “He did?” The shock in Nate’s tone was evident.

  “I’ll explain everything when you get here, but I promise, he’s not as bad as you’ve made him out to be. He’ll tell you everything you want to know. He just wants all of this to end. For me to be okay.”

  The pause on the line made Nate’s doubt obvious. He cleared his throat. “I may have forged your signature on the immunity plea when I got back to my hotel last night, so the deal we made with you will still stand either way.”

  “Nathaniel Parker,” Jo teased. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  Somehow, she could hear his smile through the line, could perfectly envision his wide lips, his straight rows of teeth gleaming white against his tanned skin. “Clearly, you’ve been a bad influence.”

  “Fun,” Jo corr
ected, humor flooding her system for the first time in what felt like days. “I prefer, ‘a fun influence.’” She squeezed the knot on the second rope tight and stood from her crouched position, turning to face the house. “Speaking of fun…”

  The innuendo was sharp.

  Nate laughed over the line. The sound was like a perfect bite of cake, sweet and sugary, sending a sense of comfort to her core, a warm embrace that brought back memories of better times. Jo took a step down the dock, unable to control the grin widening her cheeks, and watched as her father stepped up to the back door and put his hand on the knob, twisting.

  Bam!

  The world exploded.

  For a second, everything stopped, a snapshot of time. The flames halted, froze midbillow, angry, red, and bright enough to blind. Her father’s silhouette flickered, already coming apart at the seams. Debris hovered, glass and wood and rock, static in midair. Nate’s soft amusement lingered in her ear, so at odds with the scene on display before her.

  And just as quickly, it rushed forward.

  The force of the blast smacked her in the center of the chest. Jo flew off her feet, catapulting backward. Her body hit the water hard, headfirst, turning her vision to a night sky blinking with fractured stars. There was no up or down, just crashing waves and rolling water and confusion as she sank beneath the surface.

  - 30 -

  Nate

  “Jo!” he screamed as the line went dead. Nate jumped to his feet, fighting for balance as their speedboat vaulted from crest to crest, darting through the waves. A single second was all it took to spot the onyx swirl of smoke blossoming on the horizon. The sound of the blast hit a few seconds later, a muffled, muted version of the one that had interrupted Jo’s call. Nate gripped the phone in his hands as his entire body shook.