Bombshell - Men of Sanctuary Series, Book Three

by Danica St. Como

  Figuratively girding her loins, Keko took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. She headed down the hallway toward the dining area and their table.

  Keko heard MacBride’s voice, but couldn’t quite make out the words. She stopped before the wall ended.

  He pressed his point to someone. “What’s wrong with wanting her to live with me?”

  Live with him? What the hell is he talking about?

  Lorelei’s voice. “Have you discussed such arrangements with her?”

  Lucian’s voice. “So, did you buy a ring yet?”

  Lorelei again. “Lucian, you’re not helping. Will you hush?”

  Silence.

  MacBride. “Well, I might have looked around a bit. Y’know, just in case.”

  Lorelei responded. “Just in case? Just in case, what? The girl’s only been here a few days, and she lives in Boston—have you spoken about any of this with her?”

  More silence.

  “I sorta broached the subject about staying at my place. She didn’t exactly jump at the opportunity, but I think she probably still suffered from jet lag.”

  “Oh boy, Mac. This course of action has doom written all over it. It’s too soon.

  She just lost her father, for heaven’s sake, under really nasty circumstances.”

  Go, Lorelei, that’s it, tell him. Tell him! Convince him that I’m not ready for cohabitation and engagement rings. Jeez, engagement rings?

  “Yeah,” Lucian said. “We’re talking about a woman who deals with high explosives on a daily basis, who stomps all over those big ol’ powder monkeys to keep them in line. I’d damned well think twice, maybe three times, before pushing the wrong buttons. You might want to be really careful handling that fiery package of attitude.”

  Keko pulled back, pressed against the wall, missed Lorelei’s response.

  Motherfuckin’ cocksucker. She’d been sure MacBride understood her need for space.

  They’d discussed it. I just need time—time to deal with Dad’s murder, time to get my bearings in the business. I need some fucking time. He needs to stop pushing me.

  Just as she was about to clear the wall, she heard MacBride respond.

  “Okay, so maybe I bought her a little gift.”

  Lorelei again. “Mac, I love ya like a brother, but you’re pushing her too hard, too fast.”

  He must have produced a jewelry box. “See, it’s not a ring. It’s more like a wide necklace, a collar. Silver and garnet. She seems to prefer that style, and she looks great in red.”

  He bought a collar for me? He thinks he’s going to collar me? Me? When did our quasi-relationship warp into BDSM territory?

  “Damn, chief.” Lucian sounded either impressed—or apprehensive.

  Adam uttered two words. “Too soon.”

  There ya go, buddy. Adam has the right of it. Too soon. Well, enough is goddamned well enough. Keko moved quietly back down the hall toward the kitchen. The busy staff barely noticed as she tried to get someone’s attention.

  The server, Ashley, looked surprised when she realized her customer had wandered below stairs, in a manner of speaking. “Ma’am, is there something I can get for you?”

  Keko pulled her jacket tighter. “Yeah, you can tell me where the back door is—

  then forget you saw me. Please.”

  Ashley barely hesitated, then nodded, pointed. “Between the walk-in freezers.”

  “Thanks. I owe ya.”

  The young woman shrugged. “Been there, done that, have the T-shirt. Too bad, he’s a total fox. Always thought he was one of the good guys in town.”

  “No, you’re right, he is one of the good guys,” Keko said, heading for the rear exit. “He really is.” Just not for me, and not now.

  Once down the steps and onto the gravel, it became abundantly clear that any footwear incorporating the use of stiletto heels was not suitable for marching across the pea stone parking lot designated for the employees. With the footing so tricky, she found it impossible to storm off with any sort of dignity. At least I’m not wearing a skirt.

  With the sun down and the night at full dark, Keko felt the coolness of the autumn breeze against her cheeks, and snuggled into her jacket. She reached into her pocket for her satphone to call Kamaka, to ask him to come to her rescue. Beg him, if necessary.

  Damn it, the phone is in my purse, and my purse is hanging on the chair in the restaurant. Damn it, damn it, damn it. She had no intention of slinking back inside, sneaking to the table as if nothing had happened. Lord knows, I’ll miss Sanctuary, but I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.

  She hoped there was a pay phone in town, preferably within stiletto-heel walking distance, one from which she could make a collect call. Maybe at the diner.

  Kamaka can bring my luggage. I’ll sleep on the sofa at Smitty’s. Or, maybe there’s a room at the Cata-Lodge. That would be even better. Then catch the first fuckin’ flight back to Boston. If no flights, I’ll find somewhere to rent a fuckin’ car … .

  Keko tripped again, wondered how she’d gotten in this predicament. What the hell am I doing out here? Why am I letting him do this to me? I know better. I shouldn’t allow him to run me off. Since when did I become such a freakin’ coward?

  She stopped in her tracks. Why in blue blazes was she trying to get away? Had MacBride really done anything so terrible? Do what John taught you to do. Stop running.

  Take a deep breath. Exhale. Think this through.

  In addition to the Olympic-quality sex, MacBride offered her companionship. A place to rest her head. He worried about her safety. In the restaurant, he treated her like a lady, treated her with old-fashioned respect. It sounded like he bought her a gift because he thought she’d like it, not to propel her into matrimony—not to push her into a master-slave relationship.

  Lorelei had reminded Keko that she was a strong woman in a man’s world. So why was she frightened by a man who showed her affection and kindness? Oh, hell, I am so stupid.

  A sudden chill of foreboding ran along her spine; she spun around, turning a full three-sixty, made more difficult by her heels. Nothing to see, but the little hairs on the back of her neck persisted in standing up. Danger, Will Robinson, danger! Not frightened of the dark, not frightened to be on her own—she had plenty of experience being alone—she couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched.

  Keko headed back toward the restaurant. Okay, maybe I can sneak in before they realize I left.

  She paid less attention to her footing than she should have, causing the heel of one shoe to turn under. She wobbled unsteadily as she tried to regain her balance.

  Damned stones. They’re gonna wreck my shoes, and then I’ll be even more pissed off at my own stupidity.

  “Hold on there, miss.”

  What the hell? Startled, she tripped. No one had been nearby, just a moment ago.

  A tall man with strong hands grabbed her by the upper arms, steadied her.

  “Thanks. I’m fine now.”

  “You should really wear more appropriate shoes for walking.” His grip solid, he seemed hesitant to release her.

  “Yeah, I already figured out that part.” After the words were out, she felt bad for snarking at a Good Samaritan.

  “Of course you did, silly of me to mention it.”

  The man’s voice sounded familiar. She turned to glimpse his face, his features outlined in the glow of the streetlight at the edge of the parking lot.

  “Professor Simms. Fancy bumping into you again.” Hmm, old nerd guy is stronger than he looks.

  “I had supper at the diner—quaint, isn’t it?—but I think I’ve gone astray once more. I seem to have lost the Cata-Lodge again. One doesn’t usually misplace an entire building.” He pushed his Clark Kent glasses back up his nose.

  Semi-ashamed at the harshness of her previous words, she tried a lighter tone.

  “Professor, with your sense of direction, or lack thereof, you should probably stay with your tour gr
oup. You turned right again instead of left. Okay, so go back to the Hungry Bear, then another three blocks over … .” One arm still in his clutches, she tried to pull away from him to point. He didn’t let go.

  “Young lady, are you alone?”

  “Looks like it, doesn’t it?” Uh oh, not something to admit, ever. Damn, MacBride really does have me off balance.

  An odd noise alerted her. She turned in time to catch the weird expression on the face of the bespectacled professor. He released her arm, then quickly grabbed her by the back of the neck. A damp cloth was forced over her nose and mouth.

  She didn’t have time to scream. But she did have time to rip off her necklace and throw it to the ground—a fraction of a second before her world spiraled down the rabbit hole.

  * * * * *

  How long do women take in the damned restroom?

  Mac was edgy. Their meals had been served, but Keko’s braised medallions of duck with orange reduction sauce had gone cold, as had the basket of once-warm rosemary artisan bread in front of her place setting. He knew she liked her food.

  “Lorelei … .”

  She nodded and rose before he completed the sentence. She laid her napkin on the table, pushed her chair back. “I know. Keek’s been gone too long.”

  Adam and Lucian cranked up to alert status the moment Lorelei stood, which added to Mac’s feeling that something wasn’t right.

  It took only a moment for Lorelei to check out the situation and return to the table. “Houston, we have a problem. No sign of Keko. No sign of a struggle. Nothing out of place.”

  Mac stood, immediately.

  At that moment, the server returned to check on the status of everyone’s drinks.

  Lorelei morphed into Special NCS Agent Lorelei Anne Randall right before their eyes, got in the young woman’s face. “Ashley, we don’t have time to screw around, so out with it. The lady who was sitting with us—when did she leave?”

  The waitress scanned the expressions on everyone’s faces, didn’t hesitate.

  “Ma’am, she seemed upset, asked me not to say anything. She went out the back door just a few minutes after I put your dinner orders in.”

  Lorelei glance at her watch, looked around. “Keek didn’t take her purse. Mac, you’re the cop. Check the contents.”

  He rummaged through her leather shoulder bag. “Shit. ID, money, cards—and her satphone. All here.”

  Lorelei punched numbers into her own phone.

  “Kamaka, is Keko with you?” She listened. “Yes, I know where she’s supposed to be. No, stay put. We’ll get back to you.”

  She disconnected.

  Mac took the lead. “Luce, head up to the diner, see if anyone remembers seeing her. Kamaka hasn’t heard anything, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t looking for a pay phone. Adam, you’re with me. Head out the front door. I’ll go through the kitchen, meet you in back. Lorelei, bring the truck around to the rear so we can use the headlights and the emergency flashlights. Stay inside the truck, lock the doors. Contact Garrett—put him on alert, we may need his surveillance skills.”

  Lorelei didn’t waste precious time arguing.

  They didn’t take long to scan the area. Mac’s gut churned, and his heart dropped to his feet.

  Keko had disappeared.

  Chapter Eleven

  Wednesday night, into early Thursday morning

  After a call to Kamaka to meet them, after traversing the immediate neighborhood, they gathered in the conference room at the police department. Mac tossed Keko’s broken necklace up and down in his hand.

  “This is all we found. Keko’s necklace in the middle of the employees’ parking lot. One of the kitchen assistants had been standing outside by the hedge for a smoke break. He said he saw a black-haired female heading out of the parking lot on foot. He said she stopped, seemed to change her mind, turned around and headed back to the restaurant. A tall man intercepted her, they spoke for only a moment, then he ‘helped’

  her into a big black SUV that had been parked right along the street. The kid assumed the woman had too much to drink—he said she seemed sorta ‘limp,’ in his words. He knew his trucks, thought the vehicle looked like a Cadillac Escalade. Something heavy like that. Out-of-area license tags. There was enough streetlight illumination for him to get a decent look. He came in and scrolled through the ID book, thought the tags might be from D.C. He wasn’t sure of the age of the female, only that she was, in his words, just a little bit of a thing.”

  “Anyone check Pepper Hunsacker’s back seat?” Lucian asked.

  Mac shot him a look. “Not amusing, Luce.”

  “Wasn’t meant to be, chief. Seems there was an altercation in town today, in front of the Hungry Bear. Pepper threatened Keko, told her in no uncertain terms to get outa town.” Lucian indicated Deputy Collins. “Joe interfered before there was bloodshed.

  And we know whose blood it would have been.”

  Joe gave a quick nod. “Yeah, that was pretty much it in a nutshell. I sidetracked Pepper, led her to Shenanigan’s. Keko went into the diner.”

  Mac shook his head, placed hands on hips. “Fuck.”

  “However, Pepper doesn’t have a black Escalade, and I think the witness would have noticed if a woman was helping a woman into an SUV,” Joe said. “The kid was surprisingly observant. Sounds like it was definitely a man, on the tallish side, which lets Pepper off the hook.”

  Kamaka the clown had vanished, replaced by Kamaka the professional. He sat forward on the seat of his chair, hands on knees, his long black hair loose, his expression hard. “Why didn’t Miss Keko take her purse or her phone? She never leaves her phone.”

  Lorelei reached over, placed her hand on his arm. “We don’t know why she left, so those questions can’t be answered.”

  By the hard look Kamaka gave him, Mac knew Keko’s wingman had already decided where to lay the blame. And I’m sure he’s right. Somehow, this is my fucking fault.

  Kamaka took the lead. “I don’t know your Pepper woman, but unless she’s a Sumo wrestler, let’s assume she’s not strong enough to carry or lift Miss Keko, even as small as boss lady is. We checked the main roads; Keko’s not walking. If she hitched a ride, which I doubt she would do, she’d be back at Sanctuary already. She’d call me.”

  “So, what are you saying?” Lorelei asked.

  “Let’s make a leap, here. As far as we were able to establish through our research, Keko is the only person beside Smitty who actually had hands-on experience with Smith’s device. So, let’s assume we have a kidnapping, and the kidnappers have the same intel. What no one knows is that John talked her through the disarm—Keko did the deed because John injured his wrist playing with his motorcycle, couldn’t handle the tools. She just followed directions.”

  Mac’s gaze grew flinty. “Then why the hell didn’t he excuse himself from the mission?”

  “That’s where it gets tricky—it wasn’t a mission. At the time, the circumstances appeared totally serendipitous.”

  Kamaka ticked off each item on his fingers. “John happened to be at the post office to pick up a special delivery package. He’d received a phone call from a woman who identified herself as a postal employee, said a package addressed to him was too large to fit in the mailbox, and it was marked urgent. When he happened to be next in line at the counter, the postmaster happened to receive a call saying that a box with a bomb had been placed in his facility.

  “The caller demanded ten million dollars, or else. Instructions to follow—no police, no FBI, standard bomb threat bullshit. The postmaster knew John Larsson, signaled for help. Not knowing what was goin’ down inside the building, Keko and I were waiting in the SUV for John. The three of us had planned to grab lunch after the post office stop. John phoned Keko to bring the tool kit into the building.”

  “You didn’t go in with her?” Mac knew he sounded critical, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “No. My assignment, per John’s instruction, was to make the necess
ary calls to the local authorities to evacuate the area, then see the evacuation was carried out.

  Beautiful sunny morning, people all over the place. We’re trained to do our jobs, not ad lib, when the boss gives us explicit instructions.”

  Mac nodded. “Understood. Then what?”

  “Keek completed the disarm, the clock stopped. She wrote the time down on the back of her hand—that’s something she always does, writes the time on her hand. John sent her out. He stayed behind to secure the device, examine it, babysit the thing until the bomb squad arrived with their explosives containment vessel. I met her outside as she exited the building.”

  Adam growled. “Someone set Larsson up. Took him out. He was in the way.”

  Kamaka nodded. “After the facts were in, that’s what Keko and I concluded. Too many coincidences leading up to the explosion. The real substitute postal clerk denied making any phone calls; forensics bore her out. Impossible to know if there ever was a parcel addressed to John; the blast shredded everything made of paper or cardboard into confetti.”

  “No such thing as coincidence,” Lucian said. “Someone went through a great deal of trouble to make sure Larsson was in the right place at the right time.”

  “Exactly. With the device disarmed, John sent Keko out to me. I met her at the front door. Of course, the moment the news broke about the evacuation of the post office building, everyone was taking photos, video recording, texting. That’s how we know that exactly seven minutes after Keko disarmed the bomb—or thought she did—

  the device rearmed and exploded.”

  Lorelei shook her head. “Bastards. Lucky you both made it to the SUV.”

  “We didn’t.”

  Mac jerked upright. “What?”

  “Scoff if you will,” Kamaka said, “but I sense explosions a microsecond before they happen. It’s a gift—of sorts. John saw it in action more than once. It’s one of the reasons he recruited me. I’m like a canary in the coal mines.”

  Four sets of eyes zoomed in on Kamaka, mirrored varying levels of disbelief.

  He sighed. “Man, I really hate this part.”

  He rose, turned away from his audience. The big man unbuttoned his colorful Hawaiian shirt, exposed his broad back.