Covert Pursuit, page 2
“I am.”
“Would you be willing to dive down?”
He flashed a grin. “Would be my pleasure.”
Now, why did his words give her pause? Why was he so eager to help? “Fine, I’ll take you up on the offer. But keep your hands to yourself. And no sudden movements.”
“Oh, you can trust me.”
“I could, but I don’t.”
His blue eyes twinkled. “I’d be shocked if you did. Considering you’re a cop and all.” He strode to the boat and untied the ropes from the dock. “Come on, I won’t bite,” he coaxed. “I promise.”
Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake, Angie followed. Glad she’d brought her personal firearm with her, she placed her hand back on her weapon. Just in case Jason decided to renege on his promise.
Aware that his attractive guest was as nervous as a long-tailed cat on a porch full of rocking chairs, Jason started the engine and smoothly maneuvered the Regina Lee away from the dock.
Covertly, he glanced over at the detective. He liked the way her brunette hair was pulled back into a wild puff of curls and the way her brown eyes, the color of chicory coffee, observed everything. Her lithe figure moved with grace and agility beneath her denim cropped pants and V-neck T-shirt.
Her peaches-and-cream complexion barely hinting at a touch of sun suggested she hadn’t been on the island long. She’d told the chief she was a Boston homicide detective. Her accent attested to that fact. She sounded like she’d been born and raised in Bean Town, too.
She made a credible witness. Yet, she’d been brushed off by the chief like a bothersome mosquito. Curious.
The deck boat the detective had described sounded similar to one reported to be in use by Picard. For the past six months, Jason had relentlessly pursued every lead to find the elusive arms dealer, who, after fleeing New Mexico, was rumored to have landed here on Loribel Island.
Jason was champing at the bit to find the man and take him down, but Picard was being protected now by the very government that had sought to arrest him. The elusive Picard had become a source of intel into terrorist activity in the States and abroad. Rage simmered low in Jason’s belly. He couldn’t move until he could identify Picard and find something concrete to nail him with, something the government couldn’t ignore. Then Garrett’s death would be avenged.
Jason hoped this situation with the pretty cop witnessing something so very odd could turn out to be the catalyst that brought Picard out into the open. Weapons were Picard’s specialty. But taking Picard down for murder would do just as well.
Now he just needed Angie to show him where she’d seen the bag dropped.
Slowly, as if to obey the no wake rule, Jason headed the Bayliner Bowrider, a boat designed for day cruising, in the direction the vacationing cop had indicted to Chief Decker. A breeze kicked up, churning the ocean and creating small swells. Indications of the storm to come.
“Angie—can I call you Angie?”
For a moment she pursed her lips before nodding.
Jason found himself fascinated with her full mouth and the little freckle at its corner. He tore his gaze away to focus on the water ahead. “You wouldn’t happen to know the coordinates of where you saw the guys in the boat drop the bag, would you?”
“I’m not a sailor.”
Amusement had him smiling. Of course she wasn’t. She was a pretty, hard-edged cop. “Thought I’d ask.”
“Veer more to the left,” she said as she came to stand beside him at the helm. “Slow down.”
“Where were you when you saw the boat?”
“Sitting on the deck of my aunt’s cottage.” She pointed toward a row of lights dotting the shoreline.
The shadowy night sky made discerning the outline of any individual house impossible. “It’s too dark now to see which one is Aunt Teresa’s, but I think we’re just about where I saw the boat stop.”
He cut the engine, letting the boat bobble with the current while he dug out his dive apparatus. He could only hope he’d find some evidence to link to Picard at the bottom of the ocean.
She moved to the side railing and looked overboard. “I see why the chief wanted to wait until morning,” she muttered.
“No worries. I’ve an underwater light,” he said.
The sound of another boat approaching grabbed Jason’s attention. A deck boat, illuminated by high-powered lights attached to the sides, sliced through the choppy water.
Jason abandoned the dive equipment to stand beside Angie. “Is that the same boat?”
“I don’t think so. The one I saw was bigger with a higher top deck,” she said. “Who do you think they are?”
Trepidation slithered over him as the boat closed in. “Not sure. Help me put this stuff back into the cargo hold,” he said, not wanting to advertise their purpose in being out on the water.
Together they made short work of restoring the scuba equipment. “Let me do the talking,” Jason said as the boat slowed.
“They’re armed,” Angie said in a tight voice.
“Yeah,” he acknowledged as a hard knot formed in his chest.
Men carrying submachine guns stood at the fore and aft positions. Another man, flanked on either side by two more armed guards, called out instructions to the driver.
Apprehension tethered Jason’s feet to the deck. He swallowed back a prayer for help. No need to waste hope that God would come through for him. Jason would just have to make sure he and Angie got through this alive on his own.
The boat drew abreast of the Regina Lee.
TWO
Forcing himself to relax, Jason worked his cover persona, deepening his Southern drawl. “Island Charters at your service.”
Two armed men wearing jeans and black T-shirts jumped aboard as the wake of the other boat rocked the Regina Lee.
“What in the world?” Angie said, reaching for her gun.
Jason caught her hand and held on tight even as she jerked to free herself from his hold. He pulled her slightly behind him to keep her out of the men’s line of vision. In a low voice meant for her ears only, he growled, “Stand down.”
She stilled. He didn’t have to see her glare; he felt it, but he stayed focused on the men with the guns.
“Hey, not cool to board a man’s boat without permission,” Jason said.
Ignoring him, the men scrutinized the interior of the boat, going so far as to open the cabin door and peer inside. What were they looking for?
The man who seemed to be in charge stepped closer to the railing. Jason didn’t recognize the tall, muscular Hispanic man. Could he be Picard?
No. Felix wouldn’t be so careless as to show himself. Still, Jason memorized the face. Angular jawline, dark eyes slightly rounded at the edges, wide bridge across the nose, scar over the right eye. Jason would have an ID on the guy in no time once he returned to his rented condo near the marina.
Were these Picard’s men? Or was there another illegal entity working out of Loribel?
“What are you doing out here?” the man asked in a thick Spanish accent.
“I’m taking the lady on a night cruise around the island.”
“Why’d you stop here?”
“She thought she saw a dolphin.” Jason shrugged. “You know tourists. Easily fascinated.”
“There’re no dolphins. Move along.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” Ignoring Angie’s low growl of disapproval, Jason turned to the two men who’d boarded his boat. “You coming with us?”
The two looked to their boss for direction. With a flick of his hand, the boss indicated for the men to return to the other boat.
Relieved not to have the unwanted guests, Jason practically dragged Angie to the helm with him, careful to keep her back to the men.
Thankfully, she remained silent, but the faint moonlight revealed the fiery expression that said she wanted to confront the situation head-on. Not a good idea when they were outmanned and outgunned.
He started the engine and pushed the throttle forward, easing the boat away from the other craft before letting the throttle out and speeding back toward the marina.
He glanced back only once. The deck boat was now only a bright dot in the dark. He hadn’t seen dive equipment on board but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been any. In any case, he would return to the spot in the morning before Decker and dive down just in case the bag was still there.
Angie brought out her cell phone. “I don’t have a signal yet. Not even roaming.”
Jason took the phone from her hands, noticing again the strength in her long tapered fingers. “You don’t want to call this in. Just let it go. You’re on vacation. You should act like it.”
“I can’t let it go.” Her voice held an incredulous note. “I can’t let those men get away with intimidation. Not to mention those weapons. They were there to get the body. I have to tell Chief Decker.”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t think you saw a body being dumped.”
“You don’t believe me?”
The hurt in her tone unexpectedly twisted inside Jason’s chest. “I believe you saw something. Something worth sending out armed men to retrieve. And the less people who know you saw anything the better. Believe me—you don’t want to mess with those men.”
“If it wasn’t a body, then what? Drugs? Weapons?”
“Hard to say,” he said in a dismissive tone. The woman wasn’t going to relent, was she? “The Colombian drug cartel has a pipeline to the U.S. through the Keys. Arms dealers are a dime a dozen, especially around the Gulf of Mexico.”
“But wouldn’t the salt water ruin drugs or weapons?”
“Not necessarily, if they were secured in airtight, waterproof packaging.”
She peered at him with suspicion in her eyes. “You’re not a simple boat captain. Who are you?”
Her hand rested on her hip, where her holstered weapon was concealed beneath her waistband. There was no doubt in his mind she wouldn’t hesitate to draw on him if she thought he was a criminal. But for her own good, he couldn’t reveal his identity.
“You don’t think I’m simple?” He placed a hand over his heart. “That warms me. It really does.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed a stray curl out of her face. “Be serious. Who are you?”
“I’m always serious.”
Irritation gleamed in the swirling depths of her eyes. “I want an answer.”
“Bossy, much?”
She stared him down, hard. A look meant to intimidate. He’d bet she’d used that look on suspects and witnesses. Probably got people talking. He enjoyed baiting her. But he really needed her to take the situation seriously. If she kept pushing, she’d find out how dangerous things could get.
The image of Garrett, dying in his arms, shuddered through his consciousness. He banked the memory and sobered. “Look, I’ve been at this a long time. These waters are infested with sharks. The human kind. Trust me, you’ll be safer if you pretend you didn’t see anything.”
“No can do.” She relaxed her stance slightly. “I’ve sworn an oath to uphold the law.”
He let up on the throttle and slowed to the minimum speed as the boat entered the marina limits. “Honorable. But down here, you don’t have jurisdiction. Besides, once Chief Decker searches and finds nothing, you’ll have lost credibility.”
“Exactly why I am going tell him about the men now,” she argued. She held out her hand. “My phone.”
Easing the Regina Lee into her slip, he cut the engine before handing over her phone. “Your funeral.”
She made a face, which he found charming, as she swiped the phone, and then hopped off the boat onto the dock. Jason shook his head with exasperation and admiration. The woman was a spitfire determined to do the right thing. He couldn’t blame her. But she had no idea what kind of hornets’ nest she’d stumbled into.
Whether Picard or some other lowlife, those men on the boat meant business. A lone lady cop out of her element and her jurisdiction wasn’t a match.
That meant it was up to Jason to keep Detective Carlucci safe.
He gritted his teeth to keep from swearing, a habit he’d been trying to break for years. Why did foul words rise so easily when he was frustrated?
Out of the mouths of men came the issues of the heart.
Jason could just hear Garrett’s voice piping into his mind. Even from the grave his friend was trying to save him. Anger and frustration were things Jason and God were working on. Some days there were small victories. Other days, not so much.
After quickly tying off the boat, Jason went after the pretty detective. He found her opening the door of her rental convertible.
“Nice ride,” he commented. “You know how to vacation in style.”
Frowning, she asked, “What do you want now?”
He chose not to take offense at her annoyed tone. “I take it your call to the chief didn’t go well?”
Turning away, she closed her eyes for a moment. “He said I could come in and make a report.”
Not the response she’d obviously been hoping for. “Are you going to?”
Her lips twisted. “Would it do any good?”
“I don’t think so.” He hoped she wouldn’t push this. For her safety. And for his mission. “You did your duty. You informed the local law enforcement. Nothing else can be done.”
“I guess.”
She stared out at the dark ocean. “How long has Decker been Chief?”
“A while now.” Decker had been elected a few months prior to Jason’s arrival. The guy had checked out.
“You think he’s competent?”
“I think this is a small island with a low crime rate.”
“And I’m just a hassle.”
He hated how deflated she sounded. He rather liked her spunk. “Hey, forget about him. How about I buy you a late dinner.”
Peering at him with speculation, she said, “No, thanks. Shouldn’t I be paying you for taking me out?”
“Naw.” He waved a hand.
“Not a very smart business move, don’t you think?”
Oh, but she was quick. And he needed to remember to maintain his cover. “I can afford it.”
He didn’t mention the excursion was on the government’s dime.
“Business that good, huh? Even in this economy?”
“What can I say? Tourism may be down elsewhere in the world, but not here on Loribel.”
“Right.” She slid into the car and turned the key. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
He stepped back so she could pull the convertible out of the parking space. As the red glow of the car’s taillights disappeared into the night, he said aloud, “Count on it.”
He’d be keeping an eye on the pretty detective for as long as she was on the island.
And he hoped that wasn’t going to be very long. He really didn’t want the distraction. Forming any sort of attachment wasn’t part of Jason’s game plan. Work and women didn’t mix. Even ones as pretty and spirited as Angie Carlucci.
Angie entered the darkened cottage and paused to listen before turning on the lights. Her internal warning system stayed quiet. No discernible threat waited in the shadows. Still, she kept her hand on the weapon at her waist as she flipped on the light, locked the door and searched the premises, to assure herself all was as she’d left it.
She let out a relieved breath.
Going to the kitchen to fix herself a tuna sandwich, she scoffed at her own silly paranoia. The armed men on the boat had rattled her more than she’d expected or cared to admit. For several heart-throbbing moments she’d been afraid. Only the silent prayers she’d sent heavenward had allowed her to keep her composure.
Fear was not something that could be allowed. Fear could mean death. Hers or others’.
But Jason had hardly seemed unnerved by the boat of armed men.
Except when he was barking orders at her to stand down. He’d sounded exactly like her academy instructors. What was up with that?
Ex-military? That would explain how nonplussed he’d been. And how autocratic.
At first she’d chafed against the obvious he-man tactic he’d employed by pulling her behind him as if she were some damsel in distress. Okay, maybe a bit of distress, but still—
If those men had wanted them dead, Jason’s body would hardly have been an effective defense. Though in retrospect, she realized he’d been trying to protect her, not as a fragile flower but rather to shield her identity from the men on the boat.
So they wouldn’t come after her because of what she’d seen? She shuddered at the thought.
She hadn’t expected gallantry from a total stranger, but there it was. Tenderness welled up. The man might be a bit irritating, but he’d shown a streak of honor she couldn’t deny. Definitely military material. And good-looking. Very good-looking. Muscular but not overly. Strong, capable hands. And a slow, killer smile that knocked the wind out of her lungs.
Forcing Jason from her thoughts, she took her food out to the back deck. A gust of wind threatened to rip the plate from her hand. She tightened her grip and stared out at the ocean to the spot where she’d seen the black bag go into the water. She burned with curiosity and the need to prove to Chief Decker and Jason that what she’d seen was worth investigating.
What if those men who’d chased them away hadn’t been able to find the bag? It could still be at the bottom of the ocean.
Angie sure could use a boat of her own. And scuba gear. She’d have to wait until morning to rent either one. But would she be early enough to get out on the ocean before Chief Decker? Doubtful.
She sliced a look to her left where there was a storage door underneath the cottage’s eaves. Maybe her aunt had something she could use.
Setting her plate on the small round table beside the Adirondack chair, she tried the knob. Locked.
She ran inside for the keys Aunt Teresa had sent her. There were two keys. One fit the front and back doors. The other had to open the storage closet.
Sure enough, the key slid easily into the lock. With the door open, she felt around the inside wall until she found a light switch. Score.
