by Paula Graves
Stephens sneered at him. “Big man, what’re you going to do? Kill me like your daddy killed your mama?”
Gideon ignored the taunt, digging in the man’s pockets for further weapons. He came across a handful of flex cuffs and grinned with grim satisfaction. “This,” he said with grim satisfaction as he cuffed Stephens’s hands behind him, “is what you call being hoist with your own petard.”
“You stupid son of a bitch!” Stephens struggled to turn over, but Gideon slammed his palm against the back of the man’s head and shoved his face hard into the ground. Stephens cried out in pain, his voice muffled by a mouthful of mud.
Gideon felt a rush of rage. This man hurt Shannon. He’d shoved her into a car and tried to hold her captive. He’d ripped her watch from her arm, making her bleed. The temptation to shove his face deeper into the mud, to hold it there until Stephens stopped struggling, was damn near overwhelming.
But he resisted it. Instead, he found a measure of satisfaction in fastening the man’s ankles together and using a third flex cuff to hogtie his hands and feet together behind his back. Using the cuffs like a handle, he hauled Stephens off the ground and carried him through the cabin door.
“I’ll kill you!” Stephens growled, trying to bite Gideon as he threaded a fourth flex cuff through his bindings and attached him to the chain set into the wall.
“You’ll have to untruss yourself first,” Gideon shot back with a calm he couldn’t really feel, not with Shannon out there somewhere, playing hide-and-seek with an armed killer.
He crossed to the window, looking for any sign of the other man who’d been with Stephens. He saw no one out there.
Checking the Walther’s magazine, he looked down at Stephens, who writhed with impotent fury on the floor. “Sorry. Gotta go. I’ll send someone back to get you.” Easing the door open, he took a peek outside.
And stopped breathing.
Shannon stood at the foot of the shallow cabin steps, a gun to her head. Behind her, the man with the gun smiled with loathsome delight.
“Hello, Gideon. I’m Leo. I think it’s time we have a talk.”
Chapter Eighteen
Shannon locked gazes with Gideon for a brief, electric moment. She dropped her eyes, looking down at the hand with the knife, then looked up at Gideon again.
His eyes narrowed a hair.
“You have something I want, I have something you want,” Leo said in a pleasant, almost singsong voice. “I think we can make an equitable trade, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She already gave you up,” Leo said. “She said you’re the one who has the journal.”
“He won’t give it to you,” Shannon said, willing Gideon to look down at her hand, where the bright red butt of her knife was peeking out from her fist. But he kept looking at Leo, his expression full of loathing and anger.
“I believe he puts a little more value on you than on a silly book nobody can read.”
“He’s a marine,” she said, dropping her gaze purposefully to her hand again. This time, she saw Gideon’s eyes follow her gaze. They slid back up to meet hers, dark with understanding. “Marines don’t put anything or anyone before the good of their country. You might as well just shoot me—”
“No!” Gideon jerked his weapon up and aimed it at Leo, his tone frantic. “Don’t shoot her!”
She wasn’t sure if his cry was heartfelt or an attempt to distract Leo. Whichever it was, it didn’t work. Leo just pressed the gun harder into her temple, scratching the skin and making her gasp.
“Why don’t we start with you putting down your weapon?” Leo suggested. “Slowly.”
Nostrils flaring with fury, Gideon held his gun up and slowly bent, laying it on the steps beside him.
“Where’s the journal?” Leo asked.
“It’s on the island,” Gideon answered. “I can take you to it. Let her go and I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, no. I know a good hostage when I see one.” Leo wrapped his arm more tightly around Shannon’s upper body. “Where’s my associate?”
“I’m in here!” Raymond Stephens called from inside the cabin.
“He’s a little tied up,” Gideon said in a flat drawl that almost made Shannon laugh.
Leo did laugh, the sound rumbling against Shannon’s back. “I think I like you, Gideon Stone. It’s a shame you didn’t take a little more after your father, isn’t it?”
Gideon’s blue eyes glittered dangerously. “I’m nothing like my father,” he answered in a tone ripe with conviction. Shannon couldn’t hold back a smile, despite her fear.
“Go untie him.” Leo pulled his gun away from Shannon’s head, waving it toward the cabin.
It was the chance she’d been waiting for.
She slammed her hand backward, planting the blade of the knife deep into Leo’s inner thigh. He bucked against her, crying out with pain, and she followed up with a hard elbow jab to his rib. He lost his grip and she scrambled away.
By the time she turned back around, Gideon had rolled to the side, grabbed his gun and brought it to bear on Leo. “Drop it.”
Leo stared back at Gideon. “I can’t.”
“Do it.”
Leo swung his weapon toward Gideon. Gideon squeezed off a single shot, hitting Leo center mass. Leo’s simultaneous shot fired wide, spraying shards of wood shrapnel where the bullet hit the side of the cabin.
He fell to the ground, the weapon dropping from his hand.
Shannon stared at Gideon, who was still in firing position, his attention focused on Leo’s trembling body. Carefully, he crossed to where the man lay, kicking the pistol out of reach.
Leo was still breathing, but bloody bubbles erupted from his mouth as he tried to speak. “I was you...once...” His eyes fluttered shut.
Shannon walked carefully to Gideon’s side. He didn’t look at her, still staring down at Leo. “Is he still alive?” she asked.
“I think so. Don’t know for how long.” He reached in his pocket and handed her his cell phone. “Call 9-1-1.”
As she started to move away, Gideon’s hand snaked out and caught her wrist. He turned his gaze to her, and what she saw there sent a flood of heat coursing through her veins.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he whispered. “When I thought I might lose you—”
She touched his face. “I’m really hard to get rid of. Ask my brothers and sisters.”
He smiled at her, flashing those dimples that had first caught her eye. She loved those dimples.
She loved him.
Smiling deep in her soul, she stepped away and called 9-1-1.
* * *
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Gideon sat alone in an interview room at the Terrebonne Sheriff’s Department, waiting for someone to tell him what came next. He’d given his statement to Deputy Massey, handed over his Walther as evidence and now sat in silence, deeply aware of being under electronic surveillance.
Shannon had still been on the phone with the 9-1-1 dispatcher when her brothers and cousins arrived, Doyle Massey and a half-dozen deputies in tow. The Cooper men had looked a little let down to see the situation firmly under control without their help.
They’d left the deputies to do the mop-up, encircling Shannon in a cocoon of Cooper family love and protection. Her dark eyes had met Gideon’s as the Coopers and a couple of the deputies swept her away from the scene, leaving Gideon to tell a suspicious-looking Doyle Massey everything that had happened.
As they passed, Jesse Cooper’s dark eyes, full of meaning, had met Gideon’s. He paused a moment, in the chaos, and murmured, “Give me the book.”
Gideon hadn’t wanted to part with it. But the police would be searching him sooner rather than later. He didn’t want the cops to find it.
He reached into his pocket, palmed the journal and handed it over to Jesse in a handshake. Jesse slipped it nonchalantly into the back pocket of his jeans and joined the others as they headed to
the nearest Sheriff’s Department cruiser.
Gideon wondered if he’d ever see that journal again.
The door to the interview room opened and, to Gideon’s surprise, Lydia Ross walked inside, accompanied by Deputy Massey. Gideon smiled at her, relieved to see her safe and sound. He pushed up quickly from his chair and accepted the tight hug she gave him.
“I hear you and Shannon have had yourselves quite the adventure.”
He grinned at her understatement. “Yes, we did. Have you seen her?”
He hadn’t. Not since she drove away with the deputies in the back of a cruiser. Her brothers had followed in the Caddy, which would definitely need a wash and detailing after today.
“I haven’t yet.” Lydia took the seat beside him. “I’m so afraid she’s going to disappear without our getting to say goodbye.”
“Her brothers want to take her home.” Massey stood across the table from them. “But she didn’t seem inclined to leave just yet. I just came here to deliver Mrs. Ross safely back to you. You’re both free to go.”
“No more questions?”
“No, we’re piecing everything together pretty well now.”
“How’s Leo? The guy I shot?”
Massey shook his head. “The paramedics found a broken capsule in the back of his mouth. They’re testing what was left of the contents, but it looked like it might be—”
“Cyanide,” Gideon murmured.
Lydia made a murmur of distress, and he wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders.
“They’re SSU, aren’t they?” Massey asked.
Gideon nodded. “Or what’s left of it.”
“The Coopers told us about AfterAssets. We’ll be turning over Raymond Stephens and Craig Linden to the Feds.”
“There’s at least a fifth guy, on an Azimut yacht called Ahab’s Folly.”
“Nobody’s been able to find him.”
Maybe Damon could give them more information, Gideon thought.
But as it turned out, Damon was gone, too.
“A harbor patrol boat took J.D. and Sam back to the island to check on the chopper,” Jesse told Gideon a few minutes later when he and Lydia ran into Shannon’s eldest brother outside the interview area. “None of his stuff was left in the lighthouse, either. I guess he swam back out to the boat and they took off.”
Gideon swallowed a curse. “I don’t think I like that guy.”
Jesse smiled wearily. “He’s doing a tough job. Being likable isn’t at the top of his to-do list.”
“Where’s Shannon?” Lydia asked.
“Still in there giving her statement.” Jesse nodded toward a closed door. “Where are her clothes and things? We thought we’d go ahead and get them so we can head out as soon as they give her the all clear.”
Gideon’s gut clenched at the thought. “You mean today?”
“Yeah.” Jesse gave Lydia an apologetic look. “I suppose we didn’t really finish the job we sent her to do. You won’t be charged for the time.”
“Nonsense,” Lydia said firmly. “She worked hard and risked a lot for me. You’ll be paid every dime.”
“Not until I finish the job.”
Gideon’s gaze snapped to the now-open interview room door. Shannon stood in the opening, looking bone-tired but beautiful.
“I have more archiving to do,” she told Jesse. “I’ll stick around a day or two and get that done, then I’ll head back home.”
“Just because we caught this group of people doesn’t mean there won’t be others showing up for the same thing,” Jesse warned, lowering his voice.
“So let it be known that Cooper Security now has the general’s papers,” Shannon suggested. “At least if they go after the journal there, you have tons of security and a boatload of trained agents to thwart them.” She smiled at Lydia and drew her into a fierce hug. “So glad to see you!”
Lydia laughed softly. “Delighted to see you, too, my dear.”
Shannon looked over Lydia’s shoulder at Gideon. “You holding up?”
He grinned, ridiculously close to tears at the mere sight of her. “I’m good. You good?”
“I’m great,” she said with a grin, making his heart turn a couple of flips.
There was no time for them to speak alone for the next hour, as they returned the Cadillac to the garage and Jesse and Rick joined them on the boat ride back to Nightshade Island.
Worse, Jesse decided to stay on the island as added security, sending his brother—and the general’s coded journal—home on the helicopter with their cousins. Lydia offered to open another room for him, but he insisted on taking the sofa.
“It’ll be a couple of days before we can leave the island,” Gideon warned, slanting a look at Shannon, who shot him a helpless smile. “Tropical Storm Felicia’s going to hit late tonight.”
“Extra hands to help you bail,” Jesse said with a placid smile.
Shannon rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs. “I need a shower.”
Gideon did, too. “I guess I’ll head over to the caretaker’s house and get cleaned up myself,” he said to Jesse and Lydia, already on his way out the back door.
He made it halfway through the garden when he heard a soft hiss. Looking up at the second-floor balcony, he saw Shannon standing on the railing, barely visible in the purple twilight, grinning down at him.
“Meet me at the lighthouse in thirty minutes,” she said in a loud whisper, her voice carrying to him on the blustery wind. She slipped back inside the house through the nearest French doors.
His heart suddenly pounding an excited cadence, Gideon hurried up the path to the caretaker’s house. He bathed quickly and took extra time to shave, brush his teeth and comb his hair. Like a kid on his first date, he thought, grinning at the man in the bathroom mirror.
Night had fallen by the time he started making his way toward the lighthouse, and rain was beginning to blow in from the sea in salty gusts. He wrapped his rain slicker more tightly around him and ran all the way to the lighthouse door.
“Shannon?” he called when he was safely inside.
“Up here.” Her voice carried down to him from the top, echoing off the damp stone walls.
He shrugged off the slicker, leaving it to drip dry on the bottom step.
He took the steps two at a time, arriving on the landing with his heart in his throat and anticipation burning in his belly. The door to the service room stood open, a warm golden glow flickering inside, beckoning him to enter.
Shannon stood near the table holding the foghorn control, lighting a second candle. “I thought about just turning on a flashlight and leaving it on, but I like the ambience of candles.” She turned around to look at him, a half smile curving her lips. “Alone at last.”
She looked beautiful in the most simple, elemental way possible. Her dark hair was still wet, falling over her shoulders in damp strands. Her face was scrubbed clean and glowed like the morning sun. She wore a loose-fitting sundress the color of champagne that nevertheless seemed to hug each curve and plane of her body like a lover.
He’d never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted her.
The burgeoning silence between them was broken by the grumble of her stomach. She laughed aloud, the sound like music. “Guess I should have sneaked us some food from the kitchen.”
He laughed with her, closing the distance between them in a couple of steps. He wrapped his arms around her narrow waist and pulled her flush against him. “I’m so glad you didn’t leave today.”
“Hard to get rid of, remember?” She lifted her face for a kiss, and he obliged, pouring out all his pent-up terror and soul-crushing relief until they were both breathless.
He drew back, cradling her face between his palms. “When I saw Leo standing with that pistol to your head—”
“At least you knew I was alive,” she murmured, a haunted look darkening her midnight eyes. “I heard Raymond firing all those rounds, and I thought I’d find you dead.”
�
�I wanted to kill him,” Gideon confessed. “It felt like a fire in my belly. I could have dropped him when his ammo gave out. I could have killed him when he tried to pull his second weapon. But I didn’t.”
She cocked her head, giving him a considering look. “That doesn’t surprise me, you know.”
He lifted his chin. “I’m not my father.”
“No, you’re not.” She wrapped her arms around him as if she had no intention of ever letting him go.
“You remember when you asked me what I was going to do after Lydia moved away from Nightshade Island?” he asked.
She nodded, her forehead rubbing lightly against his chin. “I do.”
He bent and whispered in her ear, “I plan to go wherever you go.”
She kissed his throat. “We really are hiring at Cooper Security. I talked to Jesse on the boat trip back here—he’s going to let me work on decrypting the journal while we try to track down what happened to the Harlowes. One way or the other, we’ll figure out what the general knew.”
“I could help. I knew the general. I might see patterns you wouldn’t.”
“Then it’s set.” She kissed him again. “I know we barely know each other. I’m not expecting some kind of big declaration or anything—”
“I love you, Shannon.” He’d thought the words would be difficult to say aloud, but they weren’t. They slipped from his tongue as easily as breathing. “I don’t think I can ever stop.” He grinned, feeling a little sheepish and a whole lot wonderful. “Hope that’s okay.”
She laughed. “You big guys don’t fall easy, but when you do, it’s ‘Timber, get out of the way!’”
He kissed her again, desire turning his pulse to thunder in his head, drowning out the keening moan of the rising wind. Only the sound of a voice calling up from below broke through the haze of need. “Shannon, are you up there?”
It was Jesse Cooper.
Gideon pressed his forehead against Shannon’s. “I hate your brother.”
She laughed. “Give him time. He’ll grow on you.” She let him go and walked out onto the platform. “Go back to the house, Jesse. I’m fine.”