Always Look Twice (2 page)

And a porn-queen girlfriend born and raised in Brazos Bend, Texas.

Hence, the Callahans’ presence at this party. Sophia Garza had called home for help, claiming that Selcer wouldn’t allow her to leave the estate. Her great-aunts,Maria and Juanita Garza, had asked the Callahan brothers to solve the problem. Mark didn’t care a flying fig about Sophia—she was a pitiful, pitiable figure in his opinion—but he loved the Garza sisters. They had worked for his family for years and become family in the process. He and his brothers had made this trip for them.

A woman dressed in blue sidled up next to him. Not Sophia—her pretentious habit was to always wear pink. ‘‘Hello, handsome. I don’t believe we’ve met before. My name is Eloisa. What’s yours?’’

Mark arched a brow and gave her a swift once-over. Bleached, Botoxed, lifted, and implanted. He didn’t bother to smile as he replied, ‘‘Not interested.’’

She huffed off as Matt spoke into his ear. ‘‘Don’t be such an ass. Socialize. Remember, you need to blend in.’’

What he needed was to find Sophia and get the hell out of here. With that objective in mind, he made his way toward one side of the bronze, wrought-iron twin staircase, thinking he could more easily observe the crowd from the upper mezzanine.

Halfway up the staircase, Mark hesitated. The hair on the back of his neck rose. In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of the woman in red.
There is something about her. . . .
But as he turned his head to look at her fully, the sight of another person stopped him in his tracks.

Dark hair worn long and tied in a ponytail. Thin, harsh features. Narrow black eyes. Mark swallowed what was left of his peppermint. ‘‘Holy shit.’’

‘‘What is it?’’ Matt asked.

‘‘Not what. Who. Radovanovic is here.’’

There was a long pause on the other end of the wire before Matt said, ‘‘You’re kidding.’’

‘‘Christ, no.’’ Mark almost,
almost
pulled his 9mm from his shoulder holster and shot the bastard dead. Rad might not be the one who actually kidnapped and murdered Mark’s brother John, but as Ivars Ćurković’s first lieutenant, he’d damned sure protected the man who had.

In that moment, Radovanovic lifted his head and caught sight of Mark. The shock in the Eastern European’s eyes quickly morphed into fury. He and Mark had gone a few rounds more than once in the past.

‘‘You need to get out of there,’’ Matt said.

‘‘No shit. He’s seen me.’’ Mark knew he was in a vulnerable position and should move, but he’d be damned if he’d break eye contact first.

Matt let out a long string of curses.

‘‘No sign of Sophia yet, either,’’ Mark murmured when Matt paused to catch a breath. ‘‘Maybe I should just kill him.’’

Matt hesitated a moment before saying, ‘‘No. We don’t have the necessary connections in Hawaii, and the red tape would be hell. What the hell is Radovanovic doing there? He’s on the wrong damned side of the world!’’

Finally, Rad caved and shifted his gaze away. Mark continued up the staircase, his mind considering and discarding various scenarios of how to deal with this unexpected complication. What would the Croat gangster do now? Send his minions after Mark? Probably. He would want to know the reason why they’d both ended up in the same place at the same time.

Or maybe he’d run. He wouldn’t know that Mark didn’t have an army backing him up. Of course, Mark did have his brothers, who were better than most armies in the world.

Upon reaching the mezzanine, he turned to survey the scene below him once again. Rad stood beside the door leading to the pool area, and there, a flash of pink. Sophia, on Harvey Selcer’s arm.

Hmm . . .
That gave Mark an idea. Maybe he could pull this off, after all. He’d use Selcer to—

The familiar sensation of a gun barrel poking into his back stopped him cold.

‘‘Of all the ops in all the mansions in all the world, he has to walk into mine,’’ came a hauntingly familiar feminine voice. ‘‘Do exactly as I say, Callahan, and you might get out of here alive.’’

Mark’s jaw had slackened in shock. ‘‘Annabelle?’’

‘‘Hush. Don’t turn around, and for once in your stubborn, granite-headed life, listen to me.’’

Annabelle. It had been
Annabelle
in that red dress, not a porn queen. Although had she chosen that particular career path, she would have been a star.

‘‘Give me your Glock.’’

Mark snorted. The last time he’d seen Annabelle, she had stolen not only his gun, but also his wallet and his clothes in a childish fit of pique. ‘‘Yeah, right. I know all about how you like to leave me naked.’’

‘‘They’re watching, Callahan. Don’t be an ass.’’

Keeping her gun against his skin, Annabelle shifted around to his front, rubbing up against him in such a way that it appeared to casual observers that she was coming on to him. Her beautiful brown eyes snapped and flashed. He dropped his gaze to the full, creamy cleavage displayed by her plunging neckline.

‘‘Shooting you might be one of my favorite dreams, but I’d prefer to do it on my own terms, not Radovanovic’s. However . . .’’ She poked him hard with her gun.

He saw it wasn’t the 9mm SIG she’d always favored, but a red Glock that reminded him of the pistol Matt’s wife, Torie, owned. ‘‘A girly gun? You’re using a girly gun now?’’

‘‘It was a gift to match my dress.’’ She slipped her hand into his jacket and lifted his weapon. ‘‘From Rad.’’

Mark stiffened and everything inside him turned cold. ‘‘For God’s sake, Belle. What are you involved in?’’

Through the miniature speaker in Mark’s ear, Matt said, ‘‘Mark? Care to share what’s going on? Is a woman holding a gun on you?’’

‘‘She’s not a woman. She’s my wife.’’

Following a long pause, Matt said, ‘‘
Another
secret wife?’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ Mark sighed. ‘‘Unfortunately, this one is still alive.’’

Annabelle Monroe wondered if she’d brought this disaster on herself. When Paulo Giambelli hired her for this job and handed over his dossier on Radovanovic, she’d been dismayed to read of his connection to the Callahan family. Apparently, Mark had crossed paths with Rad a time or two since his brother’s death, with violent results. Consequently, after reading the file, Annabelle had spent way too much time thinking about Mark.

Earlier when she first spied that tall, broad-shouldered figure with his thick brown hair and jade green eyes, she had thought she must have conjured him up out of her imagination. Now, faced with the flesh-and-blood man, she decided that all that thinking about him must have kick-started some bad karma and summoned Mark Callahan to Hawaii. ‘‘I’m alive and I plan to stay that way. You’re wired?’’

He nodded. ‘‘My brothers.’’

‘‘They’re on the grounds?’’

‘‘They’re close.’’

‘‘Good. We might need reinforcements. Now move your buns, Callahan. I told Rad I’d bring you to the pool house.’’

He planted his feet and hardened his jaw. ‘‘I’m not letting you serve me up like borscht for ol’ Boris.’’

‘‘I wasn’t planning to. Once we’re outside, I’ll let you overpower me.’’

He did a double take. ‘‘You? Miss No-Man-Will-Ever-Get-the-Better-of-Me Monroe?’’

‘‘It’s the opportunity you’ve dreamed of for years.’’ Annabelle turned her head and flashed Rad a confident smile. With a quick, deft move that no casual observer would have noted, she showed the Croat that she held both her own gun and Mark’s. Softly, she said, ‘‘He’ll expect us to go downstairs and out through the French doors. He might send backup. We’ll go out through the kitchen on the opposite side of the house.’’

‘‘Are you sure—?’’

‘‘Don’t argue. Move. Look angry.’’

Mark shot a killing glare toward his old enemy. ‘‘Not a problem.’’

Annabelle’s thoughts spun as they descended the staircase, and she analyzed this new development’s effect on her plans. She couldn’t abort the operation. Somewhere on this island, a woman was scheduled to die unless she and her team found a way to prevent it. But neither could she abandon Mark to Radovanovic.

She threaded the way through the downstairs crowd, wishing she wore something less eye-catching than fire-engine red. They caught a bit of good luck when the latest female porn superstar entered the room near them, and the crowd surged forward to pay her tribute. Mark and Annabelle took advantage of the opportunity and ducked into the hallway that led to the kitchen.

As part of her preparations for the evening, Annabelle had obtained and studied blueprints of the house. She knew that Mark would have done the same, so when he moved in front of her, she allowed him to lead the way. He’d served as point man for the unit on most missions, so it was a natural response.

One that she regretted when instead of continuing toward the door that led outside, he opened the linen-closet door, flipped the light switch, and yanked her in with him.

Though the closet itself was oversized, shelving filled the majority of the space, leaving them uncomfortably close. ‘‘What are you doing?’’ she hissed.

‘‘I’m not going any farther until I’ve heard a Sitrep.’’

Her gaze narrowed. ‘‘Did we have to do that here?’’

He held up his hands, palms out. ‘‘Hey, I’m no more anxious to occupy a closet with you than you are with me. Last time we did this, we ended up married.’’

Annabelle closed her eyes, the memory of that incident alive in her mind as if it were yesterday. It had been a year after she’d officially separated from the army when their special military-intelligence unit reunited for the wedding of their explosives specialist, Jeremy Russo. To this day she couldn’t explain exactly how it had happened. One minute she and Mark had been arguing about NCAA baseball over the groom’s cake, and the next they’d been making out like teenagers on prom night in the coat closet.

She flushed at the memory. It had been hot in that closet that night, and it was hot in this one now. Callahan always did throw off a huge amount of heat. She smelled the ocean and his usual Armani aftershave on his skin, along with the scent of peppermint on his breath, and the familiar yearning washed through her. Damn the green-eyed devil. Devil Callahan—that’s what people called him in his hometown. When he had confessed that one night in Cozumel after too many margaritas, she had responded that his hometown knew him well. Mark tempted her to sin like no other man she’d ever met—then and now.

Feeling herself starting to sway toward him, she yanked back and placed her hand against his chest. ‘‘All right, then. You talk first. What brings you to this porn party, Callahan? Looking to start a new career?’’

He waited a beat, then answered, ‘‘Start? Honey, don’t you know about that video of you and me that’s up on YouTube?’’

She sucked in a sharp breath before she realized that he had to be jerking her chain. No video of the two of them existed. She set her teeth and waited.

He sighed. ‘‘Did you notice the woman with Selcer earlier? The beautiful girl in her early twenties with long dark hair, dressed in pink?’’

‘‘Yes.’’ The spurt of jealousy that she felt caught Annabelle by surprise. She did her best to ignore it. ‘‘Who is she?’’

‘‘Sophia Garza.’’ His hands settled around Annabelle’s waist. ‘‘She’s our host’s current girlfriend, and she’s the reason I’m here. She’s from my hometown, kin to some people I care about. She got in over her head in this business and now she’d like to leave and start over. Selcer has prevented it. We’re here to get her out.’’

‘‘You and your brothers and anyone else?’’

‘‘We don’t need anyone else.’’ The familiar arrogance had Annabelle rolling her eyes. ‘‘Hell, I could have done it on my own, but Maddie and Torie—my brothers’ wives—insisted Luke and Matt tag along. I think they had plans to redecorate Matt’s lake house and didn’t want him around.’’ He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. ‘‘That’s my Sitrep. What about you, Belle? What the hell are you doing with Radovanovic?’’

She didn’t like explaining herself, but she knew this man well enough to realize that doing so would save time in the long run. ‘‘Do you remember Paulo Giambelli?’’

‘‘That Italian
poliziotto
who had the hots for you?’’

She ignored the dig. ‘‘I’m working for him. He’s private now, and he’s been hired by a couple from Florence to find their daughter’s killer. She disappeared from a Black Sea resort and her body turned up in a Sarajevo brothel three months later. A month after that, police in Paris discovered a film of her rape and murder during a raid on a warehouse whose owner had ties to the Russian Mafia.’’

He exhaled a harsh breath and his hand tightened its grip on her waist. The light in his eyes went agate hard and she could tell he didn’t like her news one little bit. Half a minute ticked away before he spoke in a tone that was low and slow and deadly. ‘‘So, Rad is making snuff films now?’’

The steady beat of Mark’s heart beneath her palm reassured Annabelle. During their days as members of the unit, he’d been cool as ice during an operation. Under these circumstances, she found it comforting to know that hadn’t changed during the past seven years.

She licked her lips, then said, ‘‘It’s no surprise that he’s heavily invested in human trafficking. Snuff films are a natural diversification for him. From what I’ve been able to piece together, he’s here to fill a need for technical expertise and to expand distribution.’’

‘‘Have you connected him to the dead Italian girl?’’

‘‘Not yet, but I expect it’s only a matter of time. I was able to access his private computer and copy files. Paulo is working on the decryption now.’’

‘‘I’m tempted to take Radovanovic out tonight,’’ Mark mused.

‘‘Bad idea, Callahan. We need to bring down the entire operation, not just the leader. Before you showed up, I was close to working my way onto his team.’’