Shadow Games, page 10
Her cheeks flushed a little, and this time it wasn’t from the cold weather. “Okay, honey.” She giggled, and then she teared up. “I’m sorry. I think I’m a little slap-happy right now. I’m feeling so many emotions.”
Wyatt reached down to the seat controls and moved his seat back as far as it would go. “Come here.”
Rowan looked at him, and he opened his arms. “Let me hold you for a while.”
She immediately turned and slid across the big center console. Wyatt scooped his arms under her legs and brought her to his chest. It was a tight squeeze, her on his lap in front of the steering wheel, but the made it work. She curled into him, resting her head against his neck. “You’re starting to get stubbly.”
“Well,” he murmured, “it’ll probably get worse before it gets better. My dop kit was in the bathroom when we left. No more razors.”
She sat up a little, looking at his chin. “I don’t know. A little stubble might make you look even sexier.”
He dropped a kiss to her mouth. “I’ll take it.”
They cuddled like that for an hour, just talking of inconsequential things. As the truck warmed from their body heat, they even dozed a little, just waiting. Wyatt stayed on alert, but he allowed himself to relax a little. Rowan was such a nice handful, and he didn’t know how long this closeness would last.
The silence was shattered by his buzzing phone. He picked it up and looked at the message.
Be at the Pennridge Airport at noon today. Perkasie, PA. Jack will be there to fly you both to DC.
Got it!
Rowan looked at him. “We need to check the GPS, but we were pretty close to there at one point.”
She shuffled across the center console, and he couldn’t help but give her butt a final stroke. Grinning, she shook her head at him. A thoughtful look crossed her face. “Why don’t we have the cartel goons meet us there? We can transfer the necklace over and be done with it.”
“Let’s call them and see what they say. Where’s the number?”
Rowan reached for her backpack behind the seat and dug around inside. She pulled out the card and read off the numbers. Wyatt used his phone, just because Charlie had given it to him and it was hopefully protected from surveillance. “You ready?”
She nodded, her hands clenched in her lap. “Put it on speaker. And be ready to mute it.”
Rowan watched Wyatt press the green phone icon. There was a moment of silence, then it began to ring. There was a spate of Spanish she didn’t understand. “Do you speak English?” she asked.
“Yes, I speak English,” the woman said, her voice low and heavily accented. “Who is this?”
Rowan thought she sounded more than middle aged. Like a grandmother, or something. She had expected to talk to a man. “This is Rowan James, Ken Rockwell’s widow.”
“Ah, Mrs. James. You are a hard woman to pin down. We’ve been looking for you.”
“Why?” Rowan asked simply, holding Wyatt’s gaze.
The woman chuckled, her voice raspy. “I think you know why, Mrs. James. Your husband cost my family a very large amount of money.”
“That’s not my fault. I had no idea what he was into. What can I call you?”
“You may call me Abeula. That is allowed by me.”
Okay, the wording was a little odd, but… “Thank you, Abeula. And you may call me Rowan.”
“Gracias, Rowan. That is a unique name.”
“Thank you. How can we come to an understanding, Abeula?”
“Oh, that is easy, Chica. Return our property, undamaged. I send you condolences on the death of your husband, but he was, maybe, not so good.”
Rowan blinked and looked at Wyatt, her mouth dropping open comically. He blinked like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard either.
“Yes, he was a bad man, Abuela, and I’m having to clean up his messes.”
“I don’t know if I should tell you…” the woman paused. “It is dangerous to speak ill of the dead,” she murmured.
Rowan sighed. “You can tell me anything. I doubt it will shock me.”
“Eh, we’ll see,” she cackled. “Your husband proposed to my granddaughter.”
Rowan blinked, shock rolling through her in spite of what she’d told the woman. “I’m sorry, I lied. You did shock me. What?”
“Your husband asked for the hand of my granddaughter,” Abuela continued. “My son told him no, of course, but Mr. Rockwell was very persistent. So persistent that he convinced my granddaughter to elope with him. They left the compound in possession of a vital piece of our family history.”
“The necklace…” she murmured.
“Ah, so you do have it,” Abuela said, triumph in her voice. “That is good. Thank you for confirming that.”
“Yes, I have the necklace, but not your money or drugs.”
The older woman gave a snort. “I don’t care about any of that. Those can be replaced in a day’s time. The necklace can not. Let’s make a deal, Rowan, as they say on American TV.”
“What are your terms?”
“Your life for the necklace.”
Rowan had been lulled into thinking this woman was friendly, and level-headed and good. They’d been having a civil conversation. But those five words slammed into her, reminding her that she was probably talking to the mother of a cartel drug lord, used to having her way.
She must have paused too long, because Abuela called her name. “I will sweeten the deal, niña. I will give you Ken Rockwell’s possessions from the night he stole away with my granddaughter. There is a book I think you will find most interesting.”
Rowan gasped. “You have the logbook?”
“If that is what you are calling it. A black book. Every deal, every payoff. It’s all in here. With some carefully marked out information of ours, of course.”
“Hold on just a minute, Abuela.”
“Of course, dear.”
Wyatt hit the mute button.
“Okay,” Rowan said quickly. “If they have the logbook, let’s swap and be done with it.”
Wyatt shook his head. “No. This is what you’re going to tell her.”
Rowan stared at him in shock as he told her his plan, then she began to smile. It was perfect.
“Rowan, you’re testing my patience,” Abuela said on the other end of the line.
Wyatt made a motion with his head and took her off mute.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Abuela, I had to confer with my guard.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Thorn. He has been a thorn in my side and has also cost me a lot of money. It’s not cheap to train and send sicarios all across the country, Mr. Thorn.”
“I’m sure it isn’t, Madam.”
She chortled on the other end of the line. “Madam, indeed.”
“This is what we want, Abuela,” Rowan continued. “We know how valuable this necklace is to you. These are our terms for the trade. Have your men meet us in two hours at this address.” She read off the address of the airport. “They will escort us to the plane, ensuring our safety. At the plane, they will hand over the logbook and we will hand over the necklace. Then we’re free to go on our respective ways, and we will have no further responsibility or obligation to each other.”
“Agreed,” Abuela said immediately. “Give the necklace to the teniente, Crúz. He will bring it back to me.”
Rowan had an attack of conscience. “In the interest of full disclosure, we have SEALs on our tail. There may be resistance to us getting on that plane.”
“Understood,” the woman said. “Thank you for being candid, Rowan. If this were another situation, perhaps we could have enjoyed a tea together.”
“Yes, I believe so, Abuela. Also, as part of our agreement to part respectfully, I will not inform authorities that you had Ken killed. I can understand why, but…”
Abuela laughed, interrupting her. “Oh, my dear. The family appreciates that, but we are not worried. We aren’t the ones who killed him.”
Rowan stared at the phone in shock even after the disconnecting click. Wyatt took it from her cold fingers. She blinked, her head swinging to him. “Do you think she’s telling the truth?”
Wyatt shrugged. “She was pretty forward with everything else. I don’t think she has any reason to lie.”
“So, it had to have been the SEAL team then, and whoever was pulling Ken’s strings. Or maybe he was pulling their strings if he was paying them large amounts of money to look away, or sign off on something.”
“That’s where my bet is laying. The logbook will tell us for sure.”
“What is teniente,” she asked.
“It means lieutenant of the cartel,” Wyatt told her. “He’s the one responsible for controlling the hitmen. They usually work from a distance, so the fact that he’s here means it’s big trouble.”
“Holy crap,” she said, running her hand through her hair. “What a mess.”
10
Wyatt checked the GPS. It was just after ten and they had to be at the airport by noon. They needed to leave within the next fifteen minutes.
Sliding out of the truck he circled to the back and lifted the hatch. When he went in, he wanted to be loaded for bear. Echo sat at his side. She’d seen him get ready like this before, and she knew they were probably going on an adventure, soon. Her tail wagged with excitement. Bending down, he snapped her vest on. He would have layered her in armor, if he could. He scratched between her dark ears, then thumped her side. She wiggled, anxious to be off. “In a minute, crazy girl.”
Rowan came around the side of the truck, and he was struck with her fresh-faced beauty. Her skin was pale, but her cheeks were ruddy with the chill of the day. Her eyes were as brilliant green as the stone wrapped in newspaper in her backpack. “I think you should put the necklace on for safe-keeping.”
Her reddish brows rose at the suggestion. “Really?”
“If we have to run you can drop your bag.”
She winced, not liking the idea. He knew she would balk at leaving her tablet and personal items behind. He’d been through this kind of thing before, though. The few pounds that a bag weighed could mean life or death if you were running for your life. “Put your important items in your pockets or bra. Leave your hands free, if possible, to carry a weapon.”
“Are you sure they’re going to be there?”
He shook his head as he loaded a spare mag for his Sig. “Not at all. I do know they’re in the area, and they’ll be watching for us. The Navy has some of the most advanced tracking equipment in the world, and their computers look for connections. They’ll probably be monitoring every airport in a 5-state area, looking for us to make a jump to DC. I’m trying to plan for every contingency.”
She nodded and went around the side of the truck to get herself set up. When she came back around, she’d shed his large flannel overshirt. She’d left the sweatshirt on, but she’d tried to tuck it in so it wasn’t as bulky around her body. Wyatt grinned as he caught the flash of green and gold around her neck. “Wonder how much that’s worth,” he murmured. “A stone that big had to be worth a few million.”
Her eyes widened and she looked a little green. She touched the necklace with her fingers, swallowing. Then she looked up at him. “If I die, at least I’ll be rich for a minute.”
Wyatt laughed and leaned toward her, dropping a kiss to her mouth. “I need a sugar-momma to take care of me.”
They laughed together, but he knew it was a way to ease tension. He could see how nervous she was. “Hey, why don’t you map us out path to the airfield.”
She nodded and returned to the passenger seat. Wyatt closed up the back, taking a deep breath. Most of the weapons had been moved to the floorboard behind his seat. It was more reachable than all the way in the back. He had his Sig in the shoulder holster and the spare in the small of his back, as well as the two knives.
He should have asked Charlie for ballistic vests for the two of them.
They wended down the old driveway. “I kinda liked this old place.”
Wyatt glanced at her as they pulled onto the road. “Maybe we can come back later.”
He looked at the address on the box. Hell, if they made it through this alive maybe he’d buy the property and give it to her as an engagement gift. The thought settled in and wouldn’t leave. Then he thought about today. There was a very real chance that they wouldn’t make it today. A sudden urgency filled him.
Checking there was no traffic behind him, he pulled off the side of the road. She looked at him in alarm, her head spinning to look behind them.
Wyatt reached out and cupped her face. “There’s no one behind us. I just needed to tell you something.”
She swiveled in the seat, her brows raised. “What?”
Wyatt smiled slightly. “I just wanted to tell you that getting to know you has been precious to me. I feel like we’re a bit like the star-crossed lovers, if you know what I mean. We crossed paths too early before. This time, good and bad, we’ve gotten to know each other, and I wouldn’t exchange this time for anything.” Leaning in, he kissed her, like he’d wanted to all morning. “Because I’ve recklessly and foolishly fallen in love with you.”
She gasped, though it shouldn’t have been a shock to her. She shook her head, but he stopped her movement with his hand. “Don’t tell me I haven’t. Don’t tell me it’s the wrong time. I know that and I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to go into this without telling you.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she looked down at her lap. “Hey,” he said, voice gruff, “I didn’t tell you this to make you cry. Today is not our last day. I swear to you. But we need to be prepared in case something happens.”
She nodded, looking up. “I know. I’m so scared, Wyatt. I mean, it’s one thing to go through this in your mind and make plans, but it’s completely different to actually do it.”
“I know,” he said, looking into her eyes. “But you need to understand that I am not leaving your side. We’ll get through this together, do you understand?”
“I do,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
He pressed a final kiss to her forehead, then sat back in his seat. Checking his mirrors he pulled out onto the road, trying not to be hurt that she hadn’t told him she loved him back.
Why didn’t I tell him I loved him?
Rowan stared out as the passing scenery sped by, her attention on her heart rather than what they were walking into.
At first, when he’d told her he was in love with her, her heart had rejoiced. To have a strong man like Wyatt profess his love to her was a heady thing. But Ken had done that too, and she was honest enough with herself to admit she was gun-shy. Ken had done everything he could do to get her into bed, then to get her to marry him, even to the point of getting her pregnant. The manipulation had been subtle, but relentless.
Wyatt wasn’t like that though. She didn’t think. Actually, if they could zoom back in time to the beginning of her marriage, she would have said the same thing about Ken. Other people had seen he wasn’t a good guy, but she’d followed her heart and gone all in.
So, did she follow her heart again and tell Wyatt she loved him as well? She wasn’t sure she trusted her judgement anymore.
Wyatt turned and asked her something, and she brought her focus around. “Sorry, what?”
“Are you ready? We’re only about two miles out.”
Nodding, she swallowed, mentally remembering where her gun was, and the spare mag, and the lock blade her dad had given her.
Wyatt hit the brakes suddenly, the Suburban grinding down. In front of them, in the curve of the rural road, was the gray four-door sedan she recognized from the Rockwell’s farm. And leaning against the back of the car, arms crossed, was the man in the cowboy hat. He had a big silver gun in one hand, and a dangling cigarette in the other, and it was obvious they weren’t going any further.
“Why are they here,” she asked. “I thought they were going to be at the airfield.”
“Maybe they saw something there and chose to meet us here.” Wyatt put the truck in park and unfastened his seatbelt. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, though she really wasn’t. She just had to power through.
Wyatt opened his door and stepped out, so she did the same. Matching his steps toward the car, she eased closer to him. They stopped about ten feet from the rough-looking Hispanic man. He took a final drag on his cigarette, then flicked it to the side of the road. There were faint scars all over his face, and she wondered how many fights he’d been in in his life. His hands were lean-fingered and hard, and he held the gun like it was an extension of his arm.
There was anger in his expression and the line of his body, though. It radiated from him and when his gaze lit on the necklace around her neck, the anger took fire. “You are not family. Remove that.”
Rowan was fine with removing it. It had bothered her anyway. She let it dangle from her hand. “Do you have the logbook?”
The man reached behind himself and drew it out of his waistband. He set it on the sedan’s trunk. Then his eyes flicked to Wyatt. “You have cost me many men.”
“No, Ken Rockwell cost you many men.”
The man’s hard mouth tipped up in a smile. “Perhaps you are right. But you are going to cost me many men today. Your Navy SEALs are out there, hidden like rabbits. They were dropped in earlier. The plane you are supposed to leave on is there as well. And we have to get you there…”
He looked at the Suburban. Rowan couldn’t help but glance back as well. From this perspective, the vehicle looked rough, with its shattered windshield and damaged front.
Behind the Suburban, four other cars had glided up to park behind it. Nondescript sedans and one beige minivan. They were full of Hispanic men. “Wyatt,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said, not taking his gaze from the teniente.
“So, this is what we are going to do,” Crúz said, his English less accented than Abuela’s. “You are going to give me the necklace, and I will give you the book. Then, like fools, we are going to drive into danger and hope that Santa Muerte blesses us. My car will be first, then your car, and we will circle around you to get you on the plane. The sooner you are on the plane, the sooner we can get away and be done with the American mess. Do you understand?”
