Dead Reckoning

by Stanalei Fletcher

  A look of incomprehension and dread collided on Kellee’s face. “What are you talking about?” Kellee whispered.

  The Russian lifted a shoulder. “Those two men were sent by Viktor Solonik. It appears he has decided you are worth more to him alive than dead.”

  “I don’t know what any of this is about. And who do you think you are, to threaten me like that?” She rose from her seat, leaned over the table and balanced on clenched fists.

  It would take the slightest of movements for her to smack the Russian’s face. Egan knew what that felt like and almost hoped she’d do it.

  “You and those men had no right to kidnap me!” she said.

  Egan sat next to Kellee and slid an arm around her waist. It took more pressure than he expected to persuade her to sit down. “Settle down.” He moved his arm around her shoulders. Partly to comfort, partly to occupy his hands, but mostly to keep her from climbing over the table and strangling their captive. This man was a solid lead to what was happening with Kellee. Egan needed him in one piece long enough to get some answers.

  He gave the Russian a don’t-mess-with-me stare. “Start from the beginning.”

  The Russian shifted uncomfortably against his bonds. “Could you loosen these?”

  “No. Tell us what we want to know.”

  “And if you do not believe me?” the Russian asked.

  “You’re useless.” Egan nodded toward the porthole. As far as the eye could see, the endless Atlantic stretched in all directions. “The water’s very deep here. If your body survives the sharks, it would be weeks before it washed up on the beach, if at all.”

  His words painted a deliberately cruel picture. Next to him, Kellee shuddered, and he tightened his hold on her bare shoulder.

  The feel of her silky smooth skin momentarily distracted him. Her hair was still damp from the quick shower she’d taken to wash off the blood. He wished she’d put on the same clothes she’d been wearing earlier, which covered more of her body. Her new top and shorts made it difficult to focus. The Russian didn’t appear immune either, which didn’t help Egan’s disposition.

  “Over here, comrade,” Egan rapped his knuckles on the table to get the man’s attention. “Keep your eyes on me. I want information.” He leaned forward. “Let’s start with your name.”

  The Russian looked from Kellee to Egan. He appeared to consider whether Egan was telling the truth about throwing him overboard, and must have believed the threat for he nodded and took a deep breath. “My name is Oleg.”

  “Oleg who?” Egan asked.

  “Oleg Vasiliev.” The Russian’s eyes shifted back to Kellee. “I work for your father.”

  Kellee stiffened. “My father?”

  Egan heard the confusion in her voice and realized she was thinking about O’Neal.

  “My father sent you to kidnap me?”

  “Not your Mr. O’Neal.” Oleg scowled. “I work for Nikolai Orlov.”

  “Who?” Her forehead wrinkled as she turned to Egan. “Do I know anyone named Nicholas Orloaf? Do you know him?”

  Egan raised his eyebrows. “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because you remember more of my past than I do.”

  Before he could answer, Oleg interjected. “Nikolai. Nikolai Orlov. You would not know of him unless O’Neal had told you.”

  “Maybe you’d better start over,” Egan said. “Tell us who this Nikolai Orlov character is, and his connection to Kellee.”

  “Da.” Oleg nodded. “I think this is what you Americans call putting the cart before the jackass.”

  Egan snorted. “Something like that. Just start over.”

  Oleg grimaced as he strained against his bonds, but Egan didn’t offer to loosen them. So far, he’d told them nothing. Egan wasn’t conceding anything until they had some leverage to keep Kellee safe.

  The Russian’s attitude was stoic. Although this wasn’t a military situation, Egan recognized the soldier’s demeanor. He didn’t want to torture Oleg for information. However, if he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d do exactly that.

  “Nikolai Orlov is my employer.” Oleg spoke directly to Kellee. “He is your biology father.”

  “Biological,” Egan corrected.

  Oleg lifted an eyebrow and glared at Egan before speaking again to Kellee. “Your real father.”

  Kellee’s lips parted, emitting a strangled sound. Her pallor deepened and confusion widened her brown eyes. While she floundered for a response, Egan broke in. “How do you know this? If Orlov is her real father, then how do you explain her life with the O’Neals?”

  “O’Neal is her adopted father. However, I suspect there are no actual papers proving the legality of such a transaction.”

  “Are you saying my father stole me from Nikolai Orlov?” Kellee asked.

  Oleg paused and then nodded. “Like the thief he is. Yes.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Outside, the Suzy G continued to ride the gentle swells of the Atlantic. In spite of the late afternoon sun beating down on the cabin, an icy shiver crawled over Kellee’s skin. Even the warmth of Egan’s arm around her shoulders couldn’t stop gooseflesh from pebbling on her skin. “I don’t believe you. Byron O’Neal is my father.”

  Oleg must be lying. She looked away and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She didn’t want to believe the Russian. If she did, then she’d have to believe her life—a life she was barely starting to remember—was a lie.

  “I know what Nikolai has told me,” Oleg said. “What reason would he have to lie?”

  “What else did he tell you?” Egan’s steely edged tone was back, and she was grateful his questions weren’t directed at her.

  “He told me to bring Katya to him for protection.” Oleg nodded to Kellee. “Katya is your birth name.”

  If that was true, then Petre showing up at her apartment wasn’t a mistake—and she’d killed him. She was going to be sick. She jerked out of Egan’s hold and pushed him off the bench so she could stand.

  His hand came out, but she stepped out of his reach. “Are you okay?”

  “I need to get out,” she said. She wanted to run. As far away as possible. Only there was no place to hide.

  Pacing between the chart table and galley sink, she hugged her middle and inhaled the Atlantic breeze from the open cabin window. This couldn’t be happening. She had scarcely recovered from the first attack and the evacuation. Now this man was telling her she was someone named Katya? If she was Katya, then who was Kellee O’Neal?

  Egan’s worried expression didn’t help. She’d relied on his strength, his confidence, to help her learn her past. Right now, he seemed as lost as she felt. He glared at Oleg.

  “You’ve been following us,” Egan said. It wasn’t a question.

  “Her.” Oleg corrected. “I have followed Katya. I have been on her trail. I found her the same time you did. I have learned she killed Petre.”

  Petre. She added him to her list of troubles she wanted to forget.

  “I didn’t mean to kill him. He was trying to hurt me. You can’t blame me for what happened.” She shivered, feeling his ghostly presence.

  “Petre is—was my brother,” Oleg replied. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Viktor Solonik sent him to get you.”

  “I killed your brother?” Kellee felt the blood drain from her face. Her knees locked, and she leaned against the sink for support. “I’m so sorry. It was an accident.”

  “Who were the men on the dock?” Egan asked, preventing Kellee from adding more apologies.

  Oleg’s expression changed from one of sadness to no expression at all. “They work for Viktor Solonik, too.”

  “You mean ‘worked,’ ” Egan said, a reminder that the men were dead.

  “Da.” Oleg inclined his head.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “Who is this Viktor?”

  “Viktor Solonik is Nikolai’s American connection. A front-man.”

  “You’re with the Russian Mafia,” Egan said.
r />   Kellee’s chest tightened. “Mafia?”

  Oleg dipped his head in acknowledgement. “A business organization.”

  “Business?” Kellee nearly choked on the word. “You call what happened on the dock, business?”

  “It was for your protection,” Oleg insisted.

  “I don’t need protection! I was safe before you barged into my life. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

  Egan leaned back against the seat, a whistle pushing through his lips.

  Kellee glanced at him. “What?”

  “I just put some of the pieces together.” He gave Oleg a sidelong look. “Solonik is attempting a takeover, and he wants Kellee as a pawn.”

  Oleg leaned forward as if to stress the importance of his words. “Da. Da. Solonik sent those men. I stopped them.” He shrugged, as if the deaths of the two men were no more important than discussing a dinner menu. “Solonik believes Nikolai neglects the business for family. He will use you to get Nikolai’s attention.”

  “If Solonik gets what he wants, what will happen to Kellee?” Egan asked.

  “Oh, she will die,” Oleg said. “As will Nikolai. However, if I take you to Nikolai first, then you will be safe.” He paused as the words sank in.

  “That’s kidnapping,” Kellee said. “I refused to go with Petre. I’m not going with you, either. This Nikolai person has no authority over my life.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself.

  A breeze brushed her cheeks. Pacing and fresh air helped quell her nausea, but tension increased across her shoulders. She wanted out of the cabin, away from Oleg. Opening the door, she stood looking over the stern at the water. The sound of the waves lapping against the hull didn’t offer the comfort she sought. She pressed her palms against her forehead. Her entire situation became more and more bizarre by the minute.

  Egan came up behind her. “Are you okay?”

  No. I’m not okay. She raised her hand to stop him from touching her. She couldn’t think straight when he touched her. “I’ll be fine. I just need some time.” Egan had enough to worry about without her completely losing her cool. “Can’t we go to my father for help? I mean O’Neal, not this Nikolai Orlov.”

  “No.”

  “Nyet.”

  Oleg had overheard their conversation.

  She understood why Oleg didn’t want her to get help. She faced Egan. “Why keep me away from my father?”

  “O’Neal knows he’s being watched.” Egan looked at Oleg. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Da. Since the storm, Solonik has men waiting in Washington, D.C., and at your home in Maryland.”

  “Waiting for what?” Kellee asked. She looked from Oleg to Egan.

  Egan brushed a hand down the chilled skin on her arm. “Waiting for you to come home, sweet Kellee.” His voice was gentle, an attempt to soothe, but his words alarmed her.

  “This is why my father asked you to make me disappear. This is exactly the situation he wanted to avoid.” Now she understood why Egan couldn’t take her home. Why he’d been asked to hide her. For how long? She couldn’t stay on the run forever. “So what do we do now?”

  “You could untie me?” Oleg suggested with a sly smile.

  ****

  Egan motored the Suzy G closer to shore. They were about a half-mile east of Florida’s beaches when he dropped anchor again and called in his position to Paul. The bodies had caused quite an uproar. Leaving as he had, Egan put Paul in an impossible position and felt badly about it. He promised the old dockmaster that as soon as he could return he’d give a statement to the authorities. In the meantime, he hoped Paul wasn’t having too much trouble handling the pressure.

  As night fell over the eastern seaboard, radiant stars littered a moonless sky. For the moment, the boat rolled gently over the swells on the quiet ocean. A deceptive tranquility that kept Egan’s senses on high alert.

  Earlier, Kellee had prepared a meal of turkey sandwiches for the three of them. Egan had watched her, sensing her turbulent emotions. She ate very little, and he worried about how this new development affected her. She seemed strong, a characteristic he’d always attributed to her parents’ influence. But now it appeared Byron and Katherine weren’t her biological parents, after all. Biology aside, Egan knew from experience that character wasn’t necessarily passed through DNA. He and his brother had learned a lot from Uncle Chuck after their parents died. What their uncle hadn’t taught them, the Navy did. It was only after Rory’s death that Egan stopped caring about his own character. At least until he’d met Byron.

  On reflection, he’d learned some important life lessons after he started his journey with Northstar. Another reason to heed Byron’s warning and wait until the man had cleared up the situation on his end.

  Unfortunately, Byron wasn’t aware of how all this was affecting Kellee. None of his clout could help her. They were on their own, as isolated as his thirty-foot boat was in the vast Atlantic. It was up to Egan to keep the Russian Mafia from capturing Kellee and using her as a pawn in their power struggle. He needed to make sure the mobsters wouldn’t come after her once they were back on shore.

  A noise behind him warned that Kellee was coming out of the lower bedroom, and he turned as she stepped into the galley.

  “Where’s Oleg?” she asked.

  She’d put on a sweater in deference to the cool breeze coming off the water. It covered her scanty top, but one glimpse of her shapely legs stretching below those shorts, and he heated up quickly. He shifted his eyes forward. “He’s topside. I’ve tied him to the front railing for some fresh air.” Egan looked out the side cabin window. Their Russian guest was still vomiting over the side of the boat.

  “You let him outside? What if he tries to break the boat? Or jump over the side?”

  There was just enough light in the cabin for Egan to see Kellee’s reflection in the glass. Her mouth gaped open like a sea bass. He chuckled. “Our guest isn’t going anywhere,” he said. “He’s pretty seasick. I didn’t want that inside the cabin.”

  “Oh.”

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” Her answer was abrupt. “I’m not getting seasick, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “That’s good. Except you’re not fine, are you?”

  Kellee’s eyes narrowed. “How are you?” She countered, referring to his head wound. She clearly didn’t want to answer his question.

  “I have a headache, but I’ll be fine, too,” he said. “Stop changing the subject. We’re not talking about me.”

  ****

  Damn him. Egan had a knack for reading her mind when it suited him. She couldn’t help but think that if he’d read her mind this morning before breakfast, they would have avoided all this drama. No attempted kidnapping. No killings. Her name would still be Kellee O’Neal, and breaking down Egan’s defenses would be her biggest problem.

  She’d just have to push her desires aside and focus on setting her life on course. Her sudden accumulation of baggage was an unfair burden to carry into any relationship. Even Egan, one of the most stalwart souls she knew, didn’t deserve to be saddled with her problems. Regret and anger simmered together, forcing her to recognize that no one could salvage this mess—except her.

  “I’ve been thinking.” She hoped she sounded more casual than she felt.

  Egan kept his back to her, gazing out toward the bow. The image of his face reflected off the cabin window glass, and his mouth flattened into a grim line at her statement.

  “It’s okay for me to think,” she said. “You don’t have to look like that.”

  “Like what?” He turned around. Shadows emphasized the planes and angles of his profile. His rugged face seemed more sexy than threatening.

  “Like the world’s coming to an end.” She almost wished he would read her mind. Like last night, she could use the distraction, instead of thinking about her decision and what it meant to her future.

  He sighed. “You’ve never been good at hiding your feelin
gs.” He adjusted a gauge on the console, then stepped over to the captain’s chair and sat down. “Okay, Kellee. Tell me what you’ve been thinking.”

  His patronizing tone made her wish she could walk away—show him she was in charge of her own destiny and could do just fine without his help. Except she wouldn’t get far on the boat. In that way, she was as trapped as Oleg.

  Sitting on the bench, she gathered her thoughts.

  Egan raised an eyebrow, waiting.

  “I think I should end this cat-and-mouse game.” The words rushed out, and she took a moment to center herself.

  He frowned, but didn’t say anything, so she continued. “I think I should meet Nikolai.”

  “No.”

  It wasn’t the explosion she’d expected—a good sign. It was still a no, but she didn’t give up. “You haven’t even heard what I’m thinking,” she said.

  “I don’t need to. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Hiding isn’t dangerous?” she asked. “Running from the Russians isn’t dangerous? You tried to hide me, and it didn’t work.” Danger was the one constant in her life at the moment.

  “O’Neal will handle this. When it’s over, he’ll call, and I’ll take you home.”

  “Handle it—how?”

  “I’m sure he’s working on a solution.”

  “If he’d been on top of this situation, how did those goons find us?” She lifted her chin, challenging Egan’s logic.

  A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Those goons found us because I failed to put proper security measures in place.”

  She hated that Egan blamed himself. “So now you’re supposed to have eyes in the back of your head? Could you have prevented anything that’s happened up to this point?”

  “I should have been more focused on the situation around us. Instead of…”

  You.

  He didn’t say the word, but it hung in the cool ocean air between them. He couldn’t say it for the same reason she couldn’t let him say it. She wasn’t ready to hear it. There wasn’t anything they could do about it right now.

  Egan swallowed. “We’ll have to trust Byron. I’m sure you’ll be able to go home soon.”

  Disappointment punched hard. “And good little Kellee will be sent away someplace safe again!”