by Sofia Grey
Was that the sound of footsteps? He cocked his head to one side and listened hard.
His wrists were numb, and his arms ached behind his back, but he blocked out the discomfort.
Yes, he was right. “I hear footsteps,” he whispered.
There was a rasping noise, a bolt being drawn, a handle creaking, and then the back doors swung open. It was dark outside, except for the dim orange glow of streetlights around them. It was quiet, too. No traffic. No people, except those here. Where were they? How far did they travel? It felt like hours.
The driver and his mate climbed into the back, and between them, grabbed Nathan under the arms.
Were they going to toss him out? He kicked, but his legs were stiff and hurting and next to useless. A cramp rocketed down his calves, and he winced. They didn’t take him outside but shoved him further inside the van, a distance from Daisy.
He slammed into the metal floor and grunted. What now?
He lifted his head. Another man stood in the open doorway, with at least one more behind him. One of them had a torch. The arc of light flashed across the interior, resting on Nathan’s face. He blinked and screwed up his eyes against the harsh glow. “What do you want from us?”
“Quiet,” one man ordered in that hard accent again. The guy with the torch flashed it on Daisy’s face.
Nathan’s vision was adjusting to the light. He gazed at the new guy in the doorway.
He was different from the others. Unlike the casually dressed men they’d seen so far, this guy wore a business suit that stretched tight across bulging arms and legs. He climbed into the van and hunkered down beside Daisy, who shrank back.
“Tell me about Alain Auberge,” said the guy in the suit. His voice was deep, the accent not so pronounced.
Daisy shook her head. She looked terrified. “I don’t know any Alain Auberge.”
Suit-Guy smiled. He looked like a shark. “Strange, as he knows you. He’s been asking about you constantly.”
“I told you, I don’t know—”
“Liar.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Daisy’s voice was high and tight.
“Leave her alone,” said Nathan. “Let her go. We don’t know who you’re talking about.”
The shark smile widened. “Maybe your boyfriend can help.” Her what? Did he mean Nathan?
They grabbed him again, and this time, shoved him face down on the floor. Fuck. One of the assholes put his foot on the small of Nathan’s back and pressed. Pain arced up Nathan’s spine.
Suit-Guy spun around to face Nathan. “So, tell me. What do you know about Alain Auberge?”
“I don’t know who you mean.” He really didn’t. What part of that did they not understand?
“Hmm… this gives me a problem.” Suit-Guy stood, but his gaze was fixed on Nathan. “I’m sure it’s a case of asking the right question.”
Metal glinted in the light. Something cold pressed against Nathan’s cheek.
He froze. Holy. Fuck. The bastard held a knife to his face.
There was a sense of pressure. A dull ache underneath his eye.
Nathan stared at Daisy. Please say something, he asked silently with his eyes. Please tell them to stop.
“Maybe you’d like to rethink the question,” Suit-Guy said to Daisy. “What have you told Alain Auberge?”
“Please believe me, I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Daisy’s voice was high and squeaky. She let out a sob.
One of the men lifted Nathan’s arms. They pushed his sleeve back.
“You really don’t know?” Suit-Guy was taunting her.
“Really. I’ve never heard—”
Pain ripped across Nathan’s forearm. “Oww,” he cried. The fuckers had cut him. And Jesus, but it hurt. He was too shocked to say anything.
“Please, stop.” Daisy shouted. “Please, don’t hurt him.”
Fuck. It felt like Nathan’s arm was on fire. Pain sparked behind his eyes, his fears multiplying with every heartbeat. How deep was it? He whimpered. He couldn’t help it. The coppery smell of blood was all around him, now overlaid with the stink of his own cold sweat. Was he bleeding out?
“Just tell me, Irina,” said Suit-Guy. “Tell me about Alain.”
Wait—what? Did he say Irina?
Nathan tried to suck in a breath. He wanted to tell them they were wrong.
Daisy beat him to it. “I’m not Irina. My name’s Daisy. Daisy Banks.”
*
Juli ran for the kitchen, her ringing phone held aloft like a flaming Olympic torch and Jack following right behind. Bursting through the open doorway, all eyes turned to them and the buzz of conversation halted.
“It’s Maria,” she said.
Aiden snatched the phone, jammed it into their equipment, picked up a set of headphones, and threw them to Tanner. His guys flicked switches, while Jack took position with Tanner and Aiden. Davey nodded to Juli, who answered the call.
“Maria?”
“Juli?” Her voice sounded radically different to when she spoke to Jordan. “I’ve only got a minute. I managed to get my phone back. Listen. This is really important.”
“I’m here. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. And I’m sorry about earlier. Please apologise to Aiden if you see him.” She rushed her words. She sounded stressed. Juli gazed at Jack and Tanner. This was surreal.
“I’ve found out where Yanni is planning to meet Irina. He’s taking me there with him and says he’ll release me when he’s got her. It’s planned for 6 a.m. on Saturday morning, in Holyhead. She’s meeting him at the harbour, by the Boathouse Hotel. He has a boat, and that’s how he’s planning to get away. Did you get all that?”
What the hell? Juli met Jack’s gaze. He looked as puzzled as she felt. What was Maria talking about? Irina had been more than specific. The meet with Yanni was at nine in the morning, at Rhosneigr Station.
Did Maria get it wrong? Or did Irina misunderstand?
Juli struggled to recap. “Yes, 6 a.m. in Holyhead, by the harbour. The Boathouse Hotel. Is that right?”
“Yes.” Maria huffed a sigh. “Yeah. Jack knows the place. Don’t know if he remembers getting lucky there, but he won’t like it; the beer is warm. I couldn’t get hold of you earlier, so I tipped off the police. If you can’t make it, Yanni should be taken into custody anyway.”
Juli tried to speak, but Maria carried on talking. “I have to go. He’s coming. Take care. Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow.” The line went dead.
Juli looked at Davey.
“Same location as before,” he said. “And it’s switched off again now.”
Juli sank into an empty chair by the table and dropped her head into her hands. “What is she talking about? Does anyone know?”
“Several things worry me.” Jack moved to stand behind Juli’s chair, his hands resting warm and steady on her shoulders. “Well, lots of things, if I’m honest. She called the police, so if Aiden’s right about a leak, we can expect trouble in the form of an assassin again. There’s the RV—the rendezvous—a completely different location and time to what we’re expecting. And then, there’s our code phrase. Beer is warm means the location has been compromised. Another way of saying it’s a trap.”
It didn’t make sense. None of it. “She said she couldn’t get hold of me earlier,” said Juli, “but I’ve no missed calls or texts.”
“And is it just me, or do you find it odd that she managed to speak to Jordan quite happily but now has difficulty using her phone?” Jack’s voice rumbled reassuringly above her.
Neil spoke up. “From the level of background hiss, I’m pretty certain she was on speaker again.”
“She’s warning us it’s a setup.” Tanner’s voice was clipped. “Maybe she knows it’s not the planned meet for Irina?”
Juli rubbed her eyes. They were tired and scratchy. What was she missing? “But Maria doesn’t know Irina is here. How can she? Irina hitched a lift to Rhosneigr and picked Nathan’s place at ra
ndom. She thought she’d be able to hide here easily. Maria would assume we’d have no way of knowing where they were supposed to be meeting.”
Aiden nodded. “We know the original rendezvous is planned for three hours later, so let’s assume Maria also knows that. What if she’s trying to divert us away from the station for some reason? Misdirect us to Holyhead, and several hours earlier, so we turn up there, while Yanni heads down to Rhosneigr, and we miss him.”
“If she’s called the police, she’s going to be in danger if the mystery gunman gets there.” Juli had to state this obvious fact. “Aiden, can you check if she’s really contacted them?”
He nodded. “We’ll get right on it.”
Minutes later, he confirmed that yes, the police had been notified and were planning an operation to move in and pick up Yanni. Maria spun a tale to them of being held against her will. As Aiden relayed this information, Davey’s phone rang, passing on the same message via their office in London.
It still niggled at Juli, and she thought over the conversation again. “That reference to getting lucky there—did anyone understand that?” She looked around at the group. “What if she was referring to Jack getting Lucky—as in Jean-Luc—not lucky as in good fortune?” She sighed at the continuing blank faces. “Jack, when Yanni kidnapped me, you pulled that stunt with Jean-Luc—Lucky.” Jack had pretended to execute his friend.
Jack nodded. “I had to make it look like I killed him, when in truth he was only stunned. I carried away his body, giving him the chance to get free and go for help.”
“I told Maria about that. What if she wants to do the same tomorrow? She’s throwing clues at us. We need to understand them.”
“She wants me to pretend to kill Yanni?” Jack was scornful. “I’d like to do it for real.”
Tanner prowled around the kitchen, tension oozing from every pore. “We have to make that RV at the Boathouse, but we can’t take the chance of the mystery gunman striking again. Not while she’s still with Yanni.”
Aiden was sceptical. “This is the same Maria who stole my gun and released him. She can’t be trusted. I think this phone call was an attempt to pull us away and disable us, to stop us from making the meet at the station.”
“Holyhead to Rhosneigr is eight miles by road—only fifteen to twenty minutes in the car. There’s nothing to stop us going to both locations.” Jordan made sense. “And I trust Maria. I’ve no idea what she’s planning, but I’m inclined to follow her lead.”
Jack spoke slowly. “She’s playing a game—sure looks that way. But she wants us to be there, at the Boathouse. And we’re not gonna let her down.” His fingers tightened on Juli’s shoulders. “If necessary, we get a secondary team to the station RV. But we’re going to the Boathouse.”
*
Suit-Guy snapped his fingers, jerked his head toward the road, and the men all climbed out of the van, the doors clanging shut behind them.
Daisy spoke through her sobs. “Nathan, are you okay? Oh Jesus. I saw the knife. I can see your blood. God—” Her voice rose higher with every word.
“Hush. I’m okay.” Nathan cut her off. “You’re nearer to the doors. Can you hear what they’re saying?”
She swallowed and held still. “No, it’s all foreign.” She sniffed. “Are they Polish, do you think?”
“Possibly. But it doesn’t sound as though they want you for ransom.” Was that a good or a bad thing? Before Nathan had time to consider it further, the doors swung open and the men clambered back into the van.
Two of them stood over Nathan again.
He tried to be calm for Daisy, but his left arm hurt like a bitch, and he felt perilously close to throwing up.
Jesus. There was that fucking knife again. Nathan was sweating so hard, they had to be able to smell it. Fear poured off him in acrid waves. He lifted his head, to look at Daisy. Please God. Please don’t let them hurt her.
When he tried to move any further, a heavy boot pressed into the back of his neck, pinning him down. From there, he could see Daisy’s profile illuminated in the torchlight.
Suit-Guy broke the silence. “Your name is?”
“Daisy,” she whispered. “Daisy Banks.”
“A pretty name. And where are you from, Daisy?”
“I live in Rhosneigr.”
“Good.” He spoke smoothly. “I have no desire to hurt you, Daisy, and I’m quite willing to believe I have the wrong girl here. Tell me, do you know Irina?”
Daisy hiccupped.
Hold it together, thought Nathan.
“I don’t know who you mean,” she whispered.
Out of the corner of Nathan’s eyes, he saw the fucking blade again. Shit. Shit. He was such a fucking coward. He whimpered, his stomach churning and bile rising as a prelude to hurling. He closed his eyes tight, and tried to focus on not yelling.
He braced himself for the slash.
It didn’t come.
Daisy yelped in pain.
A hand on the back of Nathan’s T-shirt jerked him roughly upright. He bumped onto his knees and bit back the groan of pain.
He looked at Daisy. They held the knife to her throat. She stared at Nathan, speechless, trembling so bad, her whole body was quivering.
“Let her go,” said Nathan. “Please.”
The guy with the knife edged it lower. Now it sat at the base of her throat.
“Well, Nathan,” said Suit-Guy, “I believe you know Irina quite well, according to your little friend Shaz. She has such amazing hair.”
Daisy’s eyes beseeched him, but Nathan couldn’t lie. He couldn’t protect Irina at the cost of Daisy. “Yes.” His tongue felt as though it was stuck to the roof of his mouth, his lips wooden. “Irina came to my stables.”
Shaz told these guys about Irina. Shaz made this happen. He and Daisy might both die because of Shaz and her stupid fucking temper.
Suit-Guy nodded. “And where is she now?”
“I think she’s at my stables.”
“You think?” They guy grabbed a handful of Daisy’s hair and yanked back her head. “I could cut her throat. She’d bleed to death in less than a minute. Is that what you want, Nathan? Is it? Eh?”
“She’s at my stables. For Christ’s sake, let Daisy go. She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
The man released her.
She fell forward and crumpled onto the floor, whimpering when she smacked into the metal.
Nathan couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. Any minute, and he was going to vomit all over the floor. He dragged in a shaky breath, and then another.
Suit-Guy crossed his arms and stared down at Daisy. “What should I do with you both? Is there anybody else there with her? At your stables?”
“Daisy’s fiancé might be.”
“Her fiancé?” He sounded interested. “How about I call him and arrange a swap? Daisy for Irina? Do you think he’ll do that?”
Chapter Twenty
Maria switched off her phone and handed it back to Yanni.
He removed the battery and slipped both items into a deep pocket. “We could work well together. You should think about it.”
She laughed. “I don’t think so. Besides, I just accepted a new job.”
He flashed her a smile. He could be a charming bastard when he wanted to.
“A new job, huh? Let me guess,” he said. “Thriller writer? Movie stunt artist?”
“No and no.” She tucked up her knees onto the bench and wrapped the blanket more securely around herself. “I’ve been accepted for a year-long secondment to Melbourne, to help develop the markets down under.”
“Australia?” He sounded surprised, but his smile was warm. “That’s a big step, but it’s a great country.” He fiddled with the controls some more. “How did your friends take the news?”
“I haven’t told them yet. I planned to do it the other day, but I got caught up in another drama.”
“Hmm. I can’t see the cowboy being too happy.”
She sc
owled at Yanni. “Leave it. That’s my business.”
He said nothing more for the next ten minutes or so, other than to warn her they were about to dock in Holyhead. He found a space, tied up the boat, and they set off to scope out the location.
The boatyard had dim lights dotted around, and they were able to walk safely along the jetty. To Maria’s surprise, it was bustling with people.
Yanni strolled beside her, their arms linked. “Night fishing,” he explained. “We, on the other hand, look like a couple enjoying the romantic evening.”
He smiled innocently at her glare, but as soon as they cleared all the other boaters, he snapped straight back to business.
Now she’d spoken to Jordan, there was a good chance Yanni was telling the truth about the leak tip-off, if nothing else. And on that basis, Maria was prepared to make this work. It all hinged on split-second timing.
And the cavalry, coming to their rescue.
*
Jack waited for the same thing as everyone else—for Charlie’s cell phone to ring. It lay on the kitchen table, connected to the recording device, and refused to comply. Charlie sat white-faced, as silent as his phone. Alex arrived, to support his friend and half-brother, and the little kitchen became more crowded.
It was a waiting game, and they sucked.
Jack tried not to think about Daisy in the hands of these monsters.
They’d already agreed the protocol for when the kidnappers called. Jack would answer and pretend to be Charlie. This was on the giant freaking assumption that the kidnappers realised their mistake sooner rather than later.
The phone burst into life with an unknown number. Finally. Jack sat up, tugged the headphones into place, and nodded to Davey to accept the call.
It was an unfamiliar male voice, smooth and business-like, with just a hint of an accent. “Is that Charlie Jones?”
“It is,” said Jack. “And who are you?”
“Would you like to speak to your fiancée?”
“Put her on the phone.” This was the moment of truth. Proof of life. Jack glanced up at Charlie, to see how he was doing. Not very well. Alex had an arm around his shoulders, while Tanner stood with them, holding another set of headphones.