“It sounds like the Mafia,” Esme said, sick at the thought of what her brother and uncle had created, disgusted by the image of an organization that fed off others, one that ate and ate but was never full.
“It is like the Mafia. I’ve heard a criminal profiler speculate that your brother was obsessed with the mob as a child, that he had a sense of helplessness brought on by your father’s—”
“My father was a really great guy,” she snapped and then was ashamed of herself for doing it.
None of this was Julianne’s fault.
“I’m sorry,” Julianne said. “I didn’t mean to imply he wasn’t. The profiler simply said that your father wasn’t the kind of strong powerful man the Godfather represented and that your brother wanted to be what your dad was not.”
“Or maybe,” Esme said, the words tight and controlled, “Reginald was influenced by my uncle. Maybe he just wanted more than what he had. Maybe he didn’t care who he hurt in his bid to get what he wanted.”
“You’re upset.”
“This is my family we’re talking about, Julianne. And I still can’t believe they’re such horrible people.”
“The world isn’t black-and-white. There are shades of gray. Your brother might be a murderer and a criminal, but he helped your sister a lot. That’s something you can hold on to.”
“He murdered a man in cold blood. He killed two people who’d done nothing wrong. He runs an organization that makes its money off criminal activities, and he doesn’t care who he has to hurt to get what he wants.” She blew out an angry breath. “That’s pretty horrible, and it’s pretty black-and-white. Should I not hold on to it?”
“What about your sister? She hasn’t gotten involved in the business. She might not be cooperating with us, but she certainly isn’t killing people for profit.”
The words were supposed to be comforting.
Esme knew they were.
She knew Julianne was trying to offer encouragement, trying to make her feel better.
But there was nothing that could do that.
Saying Violetta wasn’t horrible because she hadn’t killed was like saying a boa constrictor wasn’t deadly because it didn’t inject venom into its victim. Snakes were snakes. And Violetta seemed to be one of them.
Esme shuddered, staring out the side window, Thunder lying on the seat beside her, his back pressed up against her thigh. She touched his warm fur, felt the soft rise and fall of his ribs as he breathed.
“You can sit up now,” Julianne said quietly. Nothing else. She probably thought she’d crossed a line, but she’d only really spoken the truth.
Esme could have told her that. If she could have made the words form. Her brain knew what to say. It knew how to be gracious and kind. It knew how to put people at ease.
Right now, though, Esme could only sit mutely, staring out the window, watching as the darkness flew by.
* * *
Ian finally reached the safe house at dawn.
He’d hitched a ride with Zeke after he’d led the plane on a nice little joyride through marshy fields and swampland.
Eventually, the pilot had given up the chase. Either he’d realized that his quarry was really good at dodging the searchlight or he’d run out of fuel.
Either way, when he’d returned to the airport, the police had been waiting. They’d found an automatic rifle onboard. The pilot, a convicted felon who’d served ten years on drug charges, was arrested immediately. His passenger had an outstanding warrant, and he’d been taken into custody, as well.
Both were still being questioned.
Neither was talking.
That seemed to be the theme with the Dupree family’s lackeys. They didn’t talk. They were probably terrified of the consequences. A man who would murder family would murder anyone.
“This place looks interesting,” Zeke said as he pulled the SUV under a double-wide carport. Julianne’s rental was beside it.
The house did look interesting. Small. Purple. Standing on stilts that looked like a good hard wind would topple them.
“That’s one word for it,” Ian said, climbing out of the vehicle and stretching stiff muscles. He’d been going nonstop for days, and he was ready to crash. First, he needed to make sure that Esme was settled in and that the house was secure.
He opened the back hatch and released King, letting the dog explore the area as he did a circuit of the property.
Not much to see.
The front yard was mostly swamp scrub and mud. Beyond it, a small dock jutted into a deep green pool of everglade water. A canoe had been tied to a post, and he inspected it, checking for holes, life vests and supplies. Everything was where it needed to be, paddles sitting in the bow, life vests under the bench seats.
“How’s it look?” a woman called, and he saw Julianne jog down stairs that led to the front door of the house.
“Good. Is this our emergency escape?”
“Yes. I’m hoping we don’t need it, of course.” She walked onto the deck, Thunder right behind her.
“Any trouble on the way here?”
“None. It was almost too easy.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t know, Ian. I just don’t feel comfortable here. The town we have to ride through to reach the property is probably owned by the Duprees. Someone there has probably noticed my bright shiny rental driving through. You think they aren’t going to put two and two together?”
“Is there a reason why you think the Duprees own the town?”
“Crime. Drugs. Poverty. Do I need to say more?”
“I’ll contact Max—”
“Already done. He’s looking for another safe house while we speak. I want it somewhere less rural. We stick out like a sore thumb here.”
Ian agreed. He didn’t like the feel of the place any more than Julianne did.
“You guys having a party without me?” Zeke strode toward them, his dark eyes scanning the surroundings.
“No, but I’m thinking one of us better go inside and make sure Esme isn’t planning another escape,” Ian said, heading back across the dock.
“She’s sleeping,” Julianne informed him. “I made her shower, change and eat. She seemed upset when you didn’t get in the SUV with us, and she was pacing around, asking me over and over again if I’d heard from you. I finally told her to take a nap. She did.”
“You’re sure?”
“As sure as I am about anything.”
“You explained the rules to her when you arrived?”
“In detail. Shades closed. Windows locked. No walking outside without an escort. No phone calls, internet or contact with friends or family.”
“Her response?”
“She didn’t give me much of one. Just asked when I thought you’d be here.”
There was a hint of something in the comment.
Curiosity maybe.
Ian made it a habit of keeping his private life private. He didn’t enjoy sharing gossip about girlfriends or relationships, and he sure wasn’t going to start sharing information now.
“I guess she’ll be glad to know I’ve returned, but I’m not going to wake her. I’ll shower, eat and get some shut-eye, too.” He walked up wooden steps that led to a deck that wrapped around the house. King must have heard him. He bounded up the stairs, ears up, tail wagging.
To him, this was a new adventure. New place. New scents. New people.
To Ian, it was a nightmare.
Too much cover too close to the house.
Too many places Angus and his goons could hide.
He reached the front door and was about to open it when his cell phone rang. He glanced at it, frowning as he saw that the number was unlisted.
“Is that Max?” Zeke asked, stepping o
nto the deck behind him. “The sooner he finds us new digs, the happier I’ll be.”
“Me, too, but it’s not him. The number isn’t listed.” He accepted the call, put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Having fun in the swamp?” the caller said, the voice so familiar, Ian’s heart jumped.
“Not as much fun as I’d be having if you were around, Jake.”
Zeke stiffened, moving closer and leaning in to try to hear the conversation.
“You never liked me. Don’t try to tell me that you did.”
“I’m sure the feeling was mutual. Which is why I’m surprised that you’re calling me and not your brother.”
“Zeke needs to stay out of this. I don’t want him hurt,” Jake growled. “You have the woman. Esme Dupree.”
“And?”
“Angus wants her.”
“Sometimes we don’t get what we want.” He glanced at Zeke, nodding when the other agent took out his cell phone and started texting headquarters. Jake was probably using a prepaid cell phone, but it still might be possible to back-trace the signal. If Ian could keep him on long enough...
“He’d better get what he wants. If he doesn’t, the team is going to pay for it.”
“You think he can get close enough to any of us to make that happen?” Ian said, cold with rage at the threat.
“He might not be able to, but I can. I know exactly how you work. I know where everyone is, and I know how to get close enough to take you down one by one until you give me what I want.”
“I thought it was what Angus wanted.”
“He wants her. I want my kid to survive. You produce the Dupree woman, because if you don’t, he’s sending someone after my son, and I’ll be sending someone after you and the team.”
“I doubt you have anything to worry about. Angus doesn’t want to make you that unhappy. You’ve done a lot for his family over the years,” Ian said, stalling for more time. Julianne had joined them, her brow furrowed as she read the texts that were going back and forth between team members.
“I’ve cut my ties with the organization. I think you know that. Angus doesn’t like that I’ve gone rogue, and he plans to find my kid before I do. He’s got more manpower and more money, and if he manages it, he’ll make me pay. Unless I produce Esme Dupree. The team has her, I want her. Hand her over by tomorrow night, or someone is going to get hurt.” His voice was stone cold, and Ian had no doubt he meant every word he said.
“You have a location for delivery?”
“There’s an abandoned church near the rental where she was hiding. Bring her there by midnight.”
“That’s too soon.”
“Too soon for you to come up with a plan to keep her safe, you mean? I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about my son. Midnight, Ian. I’m not playing around.”
“You want to see your brother when we bring her? He’s here. Part of the team protecting her.”
Jake swore softly. Obviously, he hadn’t realized his brother had been called in on protection detail.
“You come with the woman alone. If anyone else shows up, I’ll kill her right in front of you. Understand?”
“You’re saying you don’t want to see Zeke?” Ian said, purposely prodding the bear.
“You don’t seem to understand what’s going on here,” Jake said, every word clipped. “I don’t want my brother hurt. I don’t want you hurt. I don’t want anyone on the team injured. I just want the woman.”
“So she can be killed by her family?”
“So my son can live!” he roared.
That was it. He cut the connection, and Ian was left holding the silent phone to his ear.
“Did Dylan get it?” he asked, forcing a calmness into his voice that he didn’t feel. The tech guru who worked with the team, Dylan O’Leary, was the go-to guy when it came to all things technical. If anyone could hack into a phone system and obtain GPS coordinates from a prepaid phone, he could.
As if in response, his phone buzzed, Dylan’s number flashing across the screen.
He answered quickly. “Hello?”
“I got a quick trace for you. The cell signal on the prepaid you were communicating with was a hard capture, but I managed to find the signal tower that it was pinging from.” As was his way, Dylan didn’t waste time. “Looks like he’s somewhere in Montana. Unfortunately, I can’t give you anything more specific.”
“Thanks, Dylan. That helps.”
“Anything else you need?”
“Just an all-points to the team. Jake Morrow is on the move, and he’s threatening to kill team members if we don’t hand over Esme Dupree.”
Dylan whistled softly. “He’s crossing a line here.”
“He crossed it a long time ago. If you’re able to do anything else to pinpoint his location, let me know.”
“I’ll give it a shot.”
Ian disconnected and met Zeke’s eyes. “I’m sorry about this.”
“Sorry about what? We’re half brothers, remember? Jake and I barely know each other.”
“For someone who doesn’t know you, he seems really concerned about your well-being.” He’d seemed worried about the team, too. In his own bizarre sociopathic way. “He doesn’t want you anywhere near the church when I bring Esme there.”
“As if we’d do that,” Julianne scoffed, her dark eyes flashing.
“We wouldn’t, but why not make him think we’re complying?”
“I like the way you think,” Zeke said. “Setting a trap for the guy who is trying to trap us. Jake is nowhere nearby, so Angus will probably show up at the drop place. We can take him down and end this.”
“Let’s run it by Max,” Ian suggested. “See what he has to say. If he likes it, we’ll move forward and come up with a plan.”
“Anything is better than sitting around in this house, twiddling our thumbs and waiting for the boogeyman to come crawling out of the swamp.” Julianne eyed the blackish water that stretched out behind the dock.
“I think you mean the swamp monster,” Zeke suggested, opening the front door and waiting while Julianne walked through.
Both their dogs followed, rushing into the house without invitations. When they weren’t working, they were family, and they knew it.
The team was family.
All of them connected and committed.
The thought of any one of the members being hurt because of the Duprees left a hard knot in Ian’s stomach and soul-deep fury in his heart.
He wouldn’t allow Jake to follow through on his threat.
Of course, there was only one way to stop him: stop Angus Dupree and shut down the Dupree crime family forever.
ELEVEN
Julianne and Zeke left the safe house at 9:45 p.m.
Esme didn’t know exactly what they were doing, but she was certain it had something to do with her. Julianne had compared their height, commented that she’d pass for Esme only if Angus was blind and stupid, then strapped on a gun, pulled on a jacket and strode out the door.
That had been three hours ago.
They still hadn’t returned, and Ian was pacing the little house like a caged animal, moving back and forth across the living room, checking his cell phone, doing everything but walking outside and shouting for God to give him some answers.
“I’m sure they’ll contact you as soon as they finish doing whatever it is they’re doing,” she finally said, and he turned to face her.
He’d showered and changed, shaved and napped.
She knew all those things because Julianne had seemed determined to keep Esme informed of everything except her plans for the night. She also knew that he was angry. She could see it in the tautness of his muscles, the tightness of his jaw.
“This is about my uncle,
isn’t it? He’s causing more trouble.”
“Your uncle wants us to turn you over to him tonight. If we don’t, there’s been threats made against team members.”
“What kind of threats?”
“The normal, everyday someone-is-going-to-die threats,” he gritted out, crossing the room and sitting down beside her.
She’d chosen the couch. It was the only piece of furniture in the room that wasn’t covered in psychedelic fabric. The armchair was lime green and bright pink stripes. The love seat was robin egg blue with huge yellow and purple flowers.
The sofa was a muted ivory that was surprisingly clean and soft. She’d sat there because it had reminded her of her old life—of weddings and brides and dresses.
She wasn’t sure why Ian chose it. There were plenty of other places to sit. She liked him there, though. She wasn’t going to lie. It felt good to have his warm arm pressed against her shoulder. It felt good to not be alone.
He lifted her hand, frowning at the scratches that marred her palm. “I didn’t realize you’d gotten hurt when you fell last night.”
He traced a line from her palm to her wrist, his fingers warm on her cool skin. Heat shot through her, and she almost pulled away, but this was Ian, and being near him felt like being home—so right, so wonderful that she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else.
“I got hurt when I realized what my family was. I didn’t even feel the scratches,” she admitted.
He studied her face. Not speaking for such a long time, she was tempted to fill the silence, to beg forgiveness for all the trouble her family had caused, all the people who had been hurt because of them.
“When I took this assignment,” he finally said, “I wasn’t expecting to like you.”
“I got that impression,” she admitted, and he smiled.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about that. I’m also sorry that we didn’t apprehend Angus before he got to you.” He touched the side of her neck, sliding his finger along what she knew were the fading bruises her uncle had left. She resisted the urge to lean closer, to let her fingers slide into his hair.
Bodyguard Page 14