Smash and Grab: Action-Packed Thrilling Romantic Suspense (Callahan Security Series Book 2) Page 14

  “You were busy getting napkins so I made sure you wouldn’t go hungry.”

  “Great. Now I’ve eaten enough for two people.” She immediately put down her fork, suddenly feeling very full. “Why are you over-stuffing me?”

  He ignored her question. “Dessert?”

  “Are you serious? After everything I just inhaled?”

  Logan grinned and winked. “I like a woman with a good appetite.” Her stomach did flip-flops. He took the lid off the last plate and arranged it in the middle of the table. “Chocolate brownie with caramel sauce and butterscotch toffee.”

  The smell hit her nose, and she took a deep breath. “Well, maybe just a taste.”

  He smiled again and grabbed a fork. “I think I’ll join you.” He cut off a piece and popped it in his mouth. He moved it around a bit and nodded. “Pretty good.”

  She picked up her fork, but Logan got to her mouth first. He offered her a piece from his fork, watching her intently. She slowly put her mouth around it and slid it off the fork. She was teasing him, and judging by the expression on his face, he knew it. His eyes darkened as he watched her mouth. She was enjoying toying with him, building the anticipation. They were stuck and she couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time. Besides, she needed to release some of the enormous amount of tension she was feeling, and she knew just how she wanted to do it.

  Logan cleared his throat and got up abruptly, ending her fantasy. She sighed as she watched him go over to the bar area to pour them both some coffee. His ass looked amazing in his jeans. He’d picked a navy-blue polo shirt to go with them. Whoever had sent up the clothing had done a fabulous job. They picked colors that flattered Logan. She idly wondered if it was a woman and if she knew Logan personally. A flash of jealously made her heart rate speed up, but she quickly dismissed the thought.

  The clothing sent up for her was also the correct size and in colors that she would have picked for herself. Cecil, she decided, had a very good eye and a keen sense of style.

  “So…” His voice was rough. A small consolation for the lack of sex, but it brought a smile to her face.

  He cleared his throat again. “We need to come up with a plan.”

  By the time he came back to the table, he was back in control. Damn. Too bad. She was having visions of all the things she wanted to do with him. Her imagination was a much happier place to dwell—it meant she could put all her worries and fears on the back burner for the moment.

  “Lacy,” Logan said, giving her a pointed look.

  “Um, yeah.” She sighed to herself. “You’re right. A plan.”

  “How many of your father’s people know who you are?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

  “Maybe a half dozen. Dad always pares his staff down to the bare minimum when I’m coming. We usually meet and then take the yacht out so we can speak freely with less prying eyes.”

  His eyebrows went up. “I thought you staying at the Ocean Beach Resort.”

  “I was. He didn’t want to meet until Monday. He told me not to come to the compound, so I chose Ocean Beach for the weekend. It was odd. He knew I was coming, but he blew me off as soon as I landed.” She took a sip of coffee. “Do you think something happened or he suspected something and that’s why he waved me off?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility,” Logan agreed. “I think we also have to assume that Markus was working for Omar.”

  She put her coffee cup back on the table. “I hadn’t thought of that. Honestly, I had forgotten all about Markus. You think he came to the yacht to kidnap me?”

  He nodded. “It would have been a lot easier and quieter if you would’ve gotten in the car with him willingly.”

  “But why kill Markus?”

  Logan shrugged. “Maybe he changed his mind and decided he didn’t want to turn against your father. Or, maybe he was killed because he failed to bring you in. I don’t know. We won’t know until we know the rest of what’s going on.”

  “I refused to go with Markus because my father was very clear about when we’d meet this weekend.” She lifted her cup but didn’t take a sip. “He knew. My father knew something was up. I’m convinced of it now. I hadn’t really stopped to think about it with everything that’s gone on, but all the signs are there. He was trying to warn me off, buy himself time to handle it.”

  “Except he didn’t handle it and you ended up in trouble,” Logan reminded her.

  She couldn’t breathe. Her worry about Omar knowing about the flag signal was back, and it hit her like an elephant. “Do you think my father is still alive?” It was barely a whisper.

  Logan leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “Yes. He’s most definitely still alive. If he were dead, they wouldn’t bother with you anymore. I think they want to use you as collateral to make your father do something. Without you, your father won’t be forced into it. That’s my theory, and it makes sense.”

  She nodded slowly. She hoped with every fiber of her being he was right. She didn’t want to think her father could be dead. Her chest hurt at the mere possibility of losing him.

  “Back to your father’s staff. So, who are the people that know about you?”

  “Well, the yacht captain. The chef. Reggie, who helps with security. Omar, the head of security and Aziz, one of Omar’s guys. Oh, and Petra, the housekeeper, or yacht keeper, I guess it would be. That’s the usual crew. Just enough people to run the yacht. Like I said, everyone knows I exist, but my identity has been a secret for a long time. To the outside world, I’m just another one of Armand’s lawyers.

  “I didn’t spend much time with my dad growing up, just holidays. I was at boarding school. Omar would come and get me, then hide me until I met with Daddy somewhere very private. Other times, I would be brought to some shop or museum, and Daddy would be there in some secret room. We would chat, catch up, have a snack, and then he would be gone again. Christmas was our special time, though. He would get me to pick a port city, and he would anchor the yacht there. We would spend a few days exploring and enjoying each other’s company.

  “Once I graduated from law school and passed the bar, I was offered a job at my firm. It was corporate law, but I liked criminal better, so I learned both. Don’t get to do much criminal work, but I volunteer at a legal aid clinic a couple times a month to keep up my skills.”

  “You’re what, twenty-six?” he asked.

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “Still. That’s a lot of experience in a limited amount of time.”

  She sighed loudly this time. It was the same question she always got. “Look, I fast-tracked everything. Did a four-year degree in three years. Took extra classes every semester. Did the same in law school. I graduated a semester early, and then I basically didn’t sleep for a few years.

  “Besides, look who’s talking! What are you, thirty-two? You were the head of the legal team for your big Wall Street firm. Isn’t that a bit unlikely?” She raised her chin and looked him in the eye.

  He shrugged. “Looks like we’re both overachievers.” He poured more coffee and settled back in his chair. “Does anyone else know of your existence?”

  “My existence? Yes. Do they know I’m Armand Fontaine’s daughter? No.” She shook her head.

  “No one?”

  “Well…” She paused. How much do I tell him? “I mean Alex knows, of course. There are a couple of friends of my father that know.”

  “I was thinking more locally. Is there anyone locally who might be able to help us? Your father isn’t reachable, and I think we might need some help. My brothers should be here in the next couple of days. Not to put too fine a point on it, but we don’t have a lot of time. We need to find another place to hide until help arrives and we can get off this island.”

  “I can’t leave without my father. I can’t leave him to those men.” She was shaking her head.

  “Lacy, we don’t even know for sure what his situation is. I am sure he wouldn’t want you to stay. It would be better to get you to safet
y and then figure things out.”

  He was using his I’m trying to be reasonable but you’re not helping voice. She’d heard it many times when they were on opposite sides during a negotiation, and it pissed her off to no end. She shot out of her chair. “No! There is no way I am leaving this island without finding my dad. I won’t abandon him!”

  He stood up. “We may not have a choice.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she snapped.

  He walked over to her and put his hands on her arms. “Lacy—” he started.

  She took a step back, moving out of his reach, and narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Think about it.”

  She could hear the frustration creeping into his voice.

  “There’s no doubt they knew you were staying at the Ocean Beach Resort originally that’s why we can’t go back there. There are only so many resorts other resorts in this island chain. Scar and Omar will be asking around on most of the islands. They will eventually stumble upon us. It’s bound to happen.”

  “They think we died in the storm.”

  “Doubtful. Omar was waiting for you today. If they really thought you were dead, they wouldn’t have bothered.”

  “So? They don’t know for sure. There’s no reason to think they’ll find us here.”

  “Except we pulled up on the beach in a kayak, both of us dressed in wilted party clothes. We had no luggage and no cash and had to buy clothes from the hotel. Not exactly low key. The room might be listed under my old firm’s name, but it won’t take them much research to figure things out.” He shook his head. “Realistically? We shouldn’t even stay here tonight, but we have no cash and I don’t want to spend a night on the streets unless we have no choice.”

  It was true, all of it. The weight of their situation pressed down on her. She turned and walked toward the windows and then, paranoid that people could see her, turned back. “There is one person.” She hesitated. “I’ve always suspected he knows, but I don’t have any proof. He might be able to help us.” She paused and took a breath. “Peter Trenthom.”

  “The detective from the yacht?” he asked. She nodded.

  “I thought you wanted to avoid him the other night. What makes you think he’ll want to help?”

  She shrugged. “Just a gut feeling, I guess. He would occasionally drop by to see my father while I was here in Nassau. My father would never vary from the story that I was one of his minions, but I always had a feeling that Trenthom knew it wasn’t true.”

  “But I thought you said he was a local cop? Why would he drop in on your father?”

  “He’s supposed to be a cop. He would come to harass my father. Try to intimidate him or something. Let him know they were watching. The thing is, it was like both him and my dad would make a big production of his visits. He would pretend to inspect and threaten. My father would pretend to be upset and annoyed.” She shrugged again. “I think—” She bit her lip. “I think the whole thing was a sham. That they were somehow working together.” She scrutinized Logan. Did she share her thoughts? What choice did she have?

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I think Trenthom is actually CIA, not a detective—or at least not just a detective. I’m pretty sure he’s my dad’s contact.”

  Shock registered on Logan’s face and then confusion soon followed. His eyes narrowed. “Let me get this straight. You think your father works for the CIA?”

  “No. Not works for, exactly. My father works with the CIA. Think about it. If you were the CIA, wouldn’t you want close relations with one of the top arms dealers in the world? Not only would you always have access to untraceable equipment, but you could also influence which groups were sold what weaponry. Could make a big difference in the war on terror.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Logan sat heavily on the couch. His mind was racing. If Lacy was right, it opened up a whole new can of worms. “So, your father works with the CIA on certain things?”

  She nodded.

  “You think Trenthom knows you’re Armand’s daughter.” He was sorting through things in his head. “Why? Why would Armand tell Trenthom that? Why were you trying to avoid him on the yacht?”

  Lacy shook her head. “I don’t know why my father would tell him. Maybe to protect me? Or maybe Trenthom found out somehow. He is CIA. I think.

  “Before Markus was murdered, he was acting strangely. Then we argued. No matter who Trenthom actually works for, he would have to take me to the station eventually. Any time anything like that happens, there is always a risk of exposure. I’d rather the world didn’t know my real identity just yet.” She grimaced.

  “So, Trenthom goes around pretending to be a local police detective, but you think he’s really CIA. You think he might help us because if he’s CIA and your father is working with him, he won’t want to risk losing such an important asset. That’s your theory,” Logan said.

  She shrugged and then nodded. As she paced back and forth in her fluffy robe in front of him, he cursed his brother once again. This was so not his jam. He did courtrooms and boardrooms. Guns and henchmen were way outside his comfort zone. And now he might get involved with the CIA. Oh and he still hadn’t figured out if Lacy is a corporate spy. Shit. How did things go so wrong?

  Why couldn’t he have fallen for a kindergarten teacher or a librarian? Someone safe and normal, someone that the CIA wouldn’t dream of being interested in? His brain froze for a second. Every time that thought came, it was a shock, but it was starting to come easier. His respect for his brother Mitch grew. Mitch had told him that he didn’t get to pick who he fell for, but he’d been doubtful. Now he understood.

  “You know where we can find Trenthom?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I have a pretty good idea.”

  “Why don’t you get dressed. I’ve got to go do a couple things downstairs and then we’ll go see him. The sooner we get help, the better our chances.”

  “Alright,” she said and headed into her bedroom.

  The friggin’ CIA. He hated the CIA. He ground his teeth as memory after memory assaulted his brain. He had tangled with the CIA back when he was with the JAG Corps, and he had gotten badly burned. So much so, in fact, those experiences were the reason he’d left the Navy. The CIA was only out for the CIA, and if they helped you, it was because it directly benefited them or it was incidental to what they needed. No way this guy would help them unless it benefitted him personally, but what choice did they have?

  A few minutes later, Logan headed down to the lobby. “Cecil,” he called softly from across the lobby. Cecil turned, saw him approaching, and smiled.

  “Mr. Callahan, how are you?”

  He leaned closer. “Cecil, I need a huge favor.”

  “Of course, Mr. Callahan. What can I do for you?” Cecil’s face remained neutral.

  “Cecil, I need money. I can’t get any until tomorrow. I lost my wallet and ID.” He gauged the reaction, but apparently, Cecil was used to this sort of request.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Did you lose it on the property? Can I call security for you?”

  “No. No, Cecil. What I need you to do is give me some money.”

  Now Cecil’s face changed ever so slightly. Surprise flitted across and then disappeared. “Ah, well sir I, ah—”

  “Let me explain. I want to buy something and charge it to the room, but I was hoping you could charge me for more than it costs and give me the extra money in cash. Not all of it, of course,” he said, winking. “The charges will be paid, I promise.”

  Cecil’s face closed up once more. “Sir, I, um, how much money are we talking about?”

  “I need a few thousand dollars.”

  Cecil’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I know it’s a big favor, Cecil, but it’s very necessary.”

  Cecil swallowed, and after a moment’s hesitation said, “Wait here a moment.” He disappeared through a door into what was presumably a back room. A minute later he returned and nodded. “Come with me.” There wa
s a hint of a smile on Cecil’s face.

  Logan knew it was a go. He followed Cecil down the main walkway of the resort before they came to a stop in front of a jewelry store. Cecil said, “Wait here, please.”

  “Sure.” Once again, he wondered where he’d gone so wrong that a little light stealing from his former company presented no moral dilemma. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t make good on the money. What was more startling was to realize it didn’t bother him in the slightest to do it. He was becoming more like his brothers every day, and he wasn’t sure it was a good thing.

  Cecil greeted a tall young woman dressed in a white blouse and navy skirt who stood behind the counter. He said a few things that made her smile, then leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She nodded once. He whispered some more. She nodded again, and then Cecil glanced back at Logan and motioned for him to come in.

  When he walked through the door, Cecil said, “Pick out something nice for your lady friend.” Buying Lacy something wasn’t what he’d been thinking when he came downstairs, but the idea appealed to him greatly. He scanned the display case, discarding the things he didn’t think Lacy would like or things that wouldn’t do her justice.

  After a few minutes, he found the perfect gift—a set of emerald earrings. Shaped like tear drops, they were designed to hang off the ear. Tiny diamonds surrounded the central stone, making the earrings sparkle in the light. The deep green color of the gem reminded him of Lacy’s eyes.

  He nodded to Cecil, and the young woman came over. Logan completed the purchase, and the sales girl went off to wrap the earrings. Logan thanked Cecil and gave him a rather large tip. Two minutes later, he walked away carrying a wad of cash and some very nice emerald earrings. Doubt crept into his mind. Maybe buying Lacy earrings wasn’t such a great idea. He barely knew her, and she was a master at keeping secrets. Based on their current situation, it was hard to say if they were going to make it out alive, let alone manage to go on a real date. So what in God’s name was he doing with these emerald earrings in his pocket?

  He was walking toward the elevator when he spotted a couple men he recognized from the night he and Lacy were grabbed. With as much stealth as possible, he slipped behind the enormous flower display on a table near the wall. He peeked around a flower half the size of his head and watched as the men showed a piece of paper to the two women at the front desk. Both shook their heads.