Christmas Captive, page 3
“I know.” She’d left hers at home, locked in her gun safe. And it was a fair guess that Jordan had done the same. Amy felt a little bare without her weapon, and she wondered if Jordan felt the same way. Either he felt as unprotected as the day he was born or he didn’t even notice because he was fully equipped to use his hands to neutralize any threat.
Downed man in a black suit was exhibit A.
For the moment, they had no idea how the man had gotten a gun on board. But that would have to wait. “We need to see the captain.”
The guard agreed, and followed her and Elaina back to Jordan, who stood over their pursuer like a hunter showing off his haul.
As the trio approached, the guard let out an audible gasp, and she tried to look at Jordan through his eyes, to consider what it would be like to see him for the first time. He’d been a part of her life for almost as long as she’d been friends with Neesha—more than twenty years. So the big shoulders and towering height didn’t frighten her. The size of his biceps and strength in his grip didn’t intimidate her. No, they made her feel...
Well, it was better not to think about how they made her feel.
After more than sixteen years of daydreaming about how he made her feel, she’d realized just how wrong she’d been.
It was better for her—better for everyone—if she just moved on.
Only she couldn’t deny that, in this moment, he made her feel safe. And she’d never been more grateful.
The big guy in the black suit groaned again, his head lolling to the side as the officer cuffed him. It took both Jordan and the comparatively puny guard to drag the man upright. And it seemed to take hours to make it across the ship and down three levels to the security office. They’d gotten a few strange looks, but most of the ship’s guests were too wrapped up in their own vacation to give more than a passing glance to a man leaning on a security guard and another man, who could have been his friend.
When they finally arrived, Amy sank into a chair, Elaina by her side. As she wrapped an arm around her niece, she whispered to a nearby security guard, “Can you get her father down here? He was in the captain’s office not too long ago.”
The guard nodded, and Amy squeezed her hands together in her lap to keep them from trembling.
* * *
His hands were still shaking.
Jordan tried to hold them still, but there wasn’t much he could do to stop the adrenaline charging through him. What kept him on his feet during a confrontation always left him feeling a little out of sorts when the conflict was resolved.
But as he stared through the window into the makeshift cell at the unconscious man, and then looked back at Amy, he could do little more than thank God that he’d heard Elaina’s screams and gone to investigate. There was no telling what the man would have done when he’d caught them. But while Jordan was glad he’d been able to protect Amy and Elaina, he needed more information if he was going to be able to continue keeping them safe. Question number one: Why had the man been chasing them?
And as much as he wanted to beg for answers, Elaina’s stricken face left him mute. She’d have to rehash the whole ordeal when the captain arrived, so he’d patiently wait for that.
Well, patiently was a subjective word.
He paced the confines of the little room. The security guard manning the office, who had identified himself as Paul Cortero, had called Michael Torres and then leaned back in his big black chair, his hands resting over his stomach. He didn’t look terribly disturbed or concerned that a man carrying a heavy-duty handgun with a silencer had just attacked a woman and an eight-year-old girl. In fact, his eyes were closed as he rocked in his seat.
Incompetent fool.
Those were the kindest words Jordan had for a man like Cortero, who showed so little concern for the people whose safety was in his care.
But calling him every name in the book wasn’t going to locate the other man Amy had mentioned or resolve this issue.
So he kept on marching because movement helped him think.
Suddenly the metal door flew open, and a short, thin man barreled into the room, followed by a much larger shadow of a guard. Michael Torres usually had a big, commanding presence, despite being several inches shy of six feet. But right now his eyes were filled with panic as he surveyed the room.
Elaina jumped from her chair and flung herself into her father’s arms. “I was so scared, Daddy. He was chasing us, and he said he had to find me.” The words were muffled, but the terror in them was real.
“It’s okay, honey. It’s going to be okay.”
Except a gnawing feeling in his stomach told Jordan that they couldn’t be so sure of that. This situation wasn’t something they could control. At least not yet. Not with at least one more man out there.
When Elaina pulled back with tearstained cheeks, she grasped for Amy’s arm. “Aunt Amy was so great. She saved me.”
Torres hugged his sister-in-law and mouthed a thank-you.
She nodded, but there was no accompanying smile. And a tick at the corner of her eye suggested that she had news. News that no one was going to want to hear.
And Jordan was entirely sure it had to do with what Elaina had just said. The man chasing them had been after the little girl.
His stomach took a nosedive, but before he could analyze the situation further, Torres turned toward him.
“Somerton.” He gave a curt nod, his eyebrows pulled together. “How did you get involved in this?”
Jordan cringed, wishing he’d had a second to remind Torres that, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, they’d had no reason to ever meet.
Amy cut in, “Wait. How do you know each other?”
Torres turned back to Amy but was spared finding an explanation when the door to the office opened again and the captain marched in. His white jacket shone under the sterile lights as he reached to shake the ambassador’s hand.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you again tonight.”
“I wasn’t, either.” Torres’s face was pinched as he looked down at Elaina, her arms still wrapped around his waist. “It seems my daughter and her aunt ran into some trouble outside our cabin tonight.”
The captain motioned toward the chairs to indicate they should sit down while Cortero scrambled to give his seat to the ship’s senior officer.
As the captain introduced himself, Jordan forced himself to stop pacing and slid into the chair beside Amy, who shot him a look that said she wasn’t going to let her question drop.
“I’m Captain Robertson.” He directed his introduction to Elaina, who was perched on her father’s leg. He barely looked at Jordan and Amy and ignored Torres’s bodyguard standing in the corner. “I heard you had quite an evening. Can you tell me about it?”
Elaina nodded, her dark hair slipping over her shoulders. “I was with Aunt Amy. We were at the party for Neesha.”
“And then what happened?”
She looked at Amy, who gave her a gentle smile, before continuing. “We were almost to my room, and then we heard some men. They were talking. About me. Said they had to find me. Aunt Amy and I tried to get away but one of them followed us. He yelled for us to stop, but we didn’t. Then there was a high-pitched whistling sound. It was weird, but we got to the stairs.”
Even though he’d seen the gun, Jordan cringed as Elaina gave her trembling account of being shot at. It didn’t sound like she even knew what that whistle had been, but he did. And it was enough to make him sick.
Two thugs looking for a little girl when her father and his bodyguard were away from the room. Armed and dangerous and willing to use violence to get their way.
That wasn’t coincidence.
“How do you know they were looking for you specifically?” Robertson asked.
Amy filled in the gaps Elaina had left. “The two men were talking loud enough that we could hear them from around the corner.” She met Jordan’s gaze and held it, the anxiety there present and accounted for. “One asked the other where ‘the girl’ was. They called her the ambassador’s daughter.” Amy nodded toward Torres. “When they didn’t find her, they radioed someone they called ‘the boss.’ Then they split up and one headed right for us, so we made a run for it.”
Leaning forward, Jordan tried to put the scene together in his mind’s eye. “Did they say anything else? Or indicate who was in charge?”
Amy chewed on her lower lip, turning it pink and plump. But it was Elaina who added, “The man said they had to have me before they arrive.”
Jordan sucked in a sharp breath but held it because he couldn’t risk cutting her off if there was more to the story.
Torres didn’t hesitate. “They? Who’s they?”
“He never said.” Amy wrapped her arms around her stomach, as though she could ward off the chill from this conversation.
But Jordan was lost somewhere in the simple words Elaina had repeated. Everyone else had focused on the who. But he was stumped on the how. His forehead puckering as he tried to work it out, he wondered if maybe the girl had simply gotten the words wrong. “Arrive? They said arrive?”
Amy’s deep brown doe eyes grew even larger, and he could tell the emphasis hadn’t been lost on her. “Yes. That’s exactly what he said.”
“How exactly does someone arrive on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean?”
THREE
No matter how many ways Jordan flipped the questions over in his mind, there was no answer for them and no rhyme or reason to what the men had said—or what they’d tried to do.
Someone had attempted to kidnap the daughter of the ambassador to Lybania. On a cruise ship. In the middle of the Caribbean. But why try to abduct the girl on a ship where there were a finite number of places to hide her once they captured her? Why choose a ship with equally limited ways for them to escape from the people who would be searching for Elaina until they pulled into port? They weren’t even scheduled to arrive in St. Thomas for two more days.
Even more puzzling was the imminent arrival of the illusive they. He had no idea who that could be. And even less where or when their arrival might take place. The arrival that had been mentioned would have to come by helicopter or boat. But either would draw significant attention. Is that what they wanted?
His only clue was soon. Because the men Amy had overheard had been in a rush to get their hands on Elaina.
But that left a whole lot of holes in his intel.
What he needed was information from the man in the black suit, who had finally begun to wake up and was holding his arm like he’d received a lethal blow. Bah. It had barely been a tap. Just enough to bring him down. If he didn’t like it, well, then he shouldn’t shoot at women and children.
Which brought Jordan right back to another question. How’d he get a gun on board the ship? Had he snuck it through security? Had it been stashed in his suite waiting for him? And why would he shoot at Elaina if his goal was to kidnap her?
The questions pounded like a woodpecker against steel. He was getting exactly nowhere.
No matter how long he paced, the walls of the security office were as confining as the unanswered questions in his mind.
Amy, too, had stood when the captain excused himself for an urgent call. But Elaina slumped in her father’s lap. “Can we go back to our room now?” she mumbled against his chest.
“No!”
Torres jumped as Jordan, Amy and the bodyguard all yelled the same word at the same time. But the ambassador’s eyes were knowing, even as Amy slipped into the seat she’d just vacated to rub Elaina’s back. “We’ll get you a new room.” A safe one.
The last line was unspoken but louder than her other words.
Suddenly the door swung open and the captain and another man in a starched white jacket—the second in command—entered.
“My apologies,” the captain said. “This is Julio Xavier, my staff captain.”
Jordan shook Xavier’s hand but skipped the pleasantries. “The ambassador, his daughter and their bodyguard need to be moved to a new suite right away.”
Captain Robertson nodded and motioned to Torres, who stood, still holding Elaina. “I’ll take care of it personally. Follow me.” Just before he slipped out of the office with Torres and Elaina, and their bodyguard following closely, he turned back to Jordan. “Xavier oversees security and is in charge of our prisoner.”
Jordan nodded but addressed Amy instead of the staff captain. “It’s been a long night. You should get some rest.”
Her lips pinched at his words, and she pressed flat hands together in front of her so hard that her arms shook. He could almost see the steam coming from her ears.
She was clearly exhausted, and he’d assumed that she’d be grateful for the chance to get some downtime, knowing he’d handle things here. Apparently not.
He scratched at the back of his neck and frowned at Amy, who gave him one shake of her head before turning toward Xavier and pointing toward the glass window into the single cell.
“With your permission, sir, I’d like to interview this man.”
Jordan stepped forward to interrupt. After all, he wanted to do the interrogating.
But Xavier was focused on Amy, shaking his head at her. “It’s my jurisdiction. I’ll take care of it.”
“Sir, I’m a DEA agent and that little girl’s aunt. And that man shot at me today. I’d like to know why.”
The staff captain ran his hand along his jaw, pinching his features as though in deep thought before letting his gaze land on Jordan. “Suppose you’re DEA, too.”
“No, sir.”
Xavier visibly relaxed.
“SEAL teams.”
The older man’s pinched expression immediately returned. “SEALs, huh? So you’ve worked with terrorists before.”
Jordan wasn’t quite sure where this line of questioning was going, but he’d answer nearly any question to get a chance at asking a few of his own. “No, sir. I don’t work with terrorists.”
“Ha.” Xavier’s chuckle was as dry as dust.
“What do you say you let us stick around?” Jordan said. “We’ll stay out of your way.”
Amy cleared her throat as if she wasn’t willing to make that concession, but Jordan kept going.
“Maybe ask a follow-up question or two.”
Xavier rubbed at his chin for a long moment before glancing at Cortero, who had remained silent in the background. “I guess that’s fine.”
As jails went, this one looked more like a hospital, all sterile white walls and a bench that looked like it belonged in an accessible shower. It wasn’t exactly homey, but neither did it suggest that the man in the black suit would face serious consequences for his actions. Which left Jordan with a distinct feeling of unbalance.
Xavier began his interview in a calm voice. “I’m Julio Xavier. What’s your name?”
The thug shook his head. He attempted to cross his arms but winced when he bumped his forearm. “I need to see a doctor. That guy broke my arm.”
Amy shot Jordan a look, and he shrugged. He’d take the man—or any other—down again in a minute if he threatened Amy or Elaina.
Xavier sucked on his long tooth. “First, you have to tell me your name.”
The big man squinted hard, his eyes nearly disappearing in his round face. His bald head didn’t do anything except make his face look fatter.
After a long staring contest, where the staff captain didn’t back down, the man said, “Dean.”
“Is that a first name or a last?”
Again, he stared like he was trying to figure out what Xavier wanted to hear. Jordan couldn’t stop his hands from rubbing together or force his feet to stand still. Not when there was another man out there, probably still looking for Elaina, and this man in front of him was answering none of the questions burning a hole in Jordan’s gut.
Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t doing the questioning because Jordan suddenly had patience for no one and nothing.
Come on, man. Get it going.
But the staff captain kept his pace slow and easy. “Is your first name Dean?”
The man shook his head.
“Your last?”
Finally a nod. Now they were getting somewhere. Mr. Dean had half a name, and Xavier nodded to Cortero. “Look it up.”
The security guard did as he was told, turning to the computer on the desk before him, his fingers making the keyboard clack. “First name?”
The man in black responded with silence, long enough to make Jordan’s blood begin to boil. He shot a scowl into the cell, but it was Amy who spoke up.
“Now.”
One word. One syllable. It was all she needed.
“Eric. Eric Dean.”
Jordan couldn’t contain the smile that bubbled into place, and he shot Amy an approving nod as Cortero typed in the first name.
“There’s no one by that name on the passenger manifest.”
Amy drew in a quick breath. He could feel it more than hear it. And he was pretty sure they were thinking the same thing.
This man had either lied about his name or found a back door onto the ship. With a gun.
And he wasn’t alone. There was at least one other dangerous person working with him, and they were both working for someone else. But if there was a back entrance, there could be a whole lot more than that.
“We’re going to need your fingerprints to confirm your identity,” Xavier said.
But Eric shook his head. Hard. He looked like a five-year-old refusing to go to bed. “I’ll wait to see the doctor first. And then I’ll wait for the local authorities in St. Thomas.”
His words were straightforward and clear, but something about his expression made Jordan’s skin crawl. He wasn’t scared or upset, or even resigned to his fate. He seemed to be suppressing a smile at the thought that he’d ever have to face the consequences of his actions. Either he was a sociopath or he knew something that Jordan didn’t.
