Authors: Misty Evans
She’d replaced the white shirt with one of his standard gray T-shirts and the sight of her wearing it brought back memories of their lazy weekends together. Times like those had been few and far between, making the memories richer. She’d always slept in his T-shirts, claiming they were softer than any of her pajamas.
He reached out and touched her hand on top of the blanket.
Warm
. The shirt-curtain blew open again and he could see her cheeks were flushed from sleep. Her lips, parting on a sigh, were rosy.
No signs of shock. Just to be sure, he lightly slipped two fingers to the inside of her wrist and found her pulse. While her wrist was tiny, her pulse was strong and steady. Closing his eyes, he counted the tiny beats under her skin.
Even after he was sure she was fine, he let his fingers linger on her skin. He stroked the tiny bones on the inside of her wrist, remembering how she loved to be kissed there.
“Cal?” Her voice was sleepy, her eyelids half-closed.
The gray of his shirt made her blue eyes brighter when the light hit them. “Yeah, B.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine. I was just checking on you.”
Maggie pushed her nose into Bianca’s face and she patted the dog’s head, barely avoiding a dog kiss. “I haven’t slept in days. Too scared.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle and ran a hand over her face, flinching when she rubbed against the bandage on her cheek. “It felt good to curl up and take a nap.”
In my shirt. In my bed
.
Cal patted her hip. “Go back to sleep. You’re safe.”
She met his gaze, eyelids still at half-mast. “Will you fix the camera?”
“The camera?”
“It must have fallen over in the storm.” She drew out her phone from under the pillow. “I’d feel better if I could see you when you’re up there.”
The phone.
Dammit
. He snatched it from her hand. “This thing has GPS. Someone could be tracking you. We have to destroy it.”
“No, wait!” She sat up and grabbed it from him. “I’ve disabled the GPS and made the phone untraceable.”
Seeing the skepticism in his eyes, she said, “Trust me. Anyone tracing the phone believes I’m in downtown San Diego right now.” She looked down and cringed. “Crap. Another missed call from Coop.”
“Coop?”
“My taskforce boss, Cooper Harris. I was supposed to be at a meeting at ten. He won’t be happy I missed it.”
She started to dial and Cal once again lifted the phone from her hands. “No communication. None.”
“But I—”
“None, Bianca.” He held it out of her reach. “Not until I figure this mess out.”
She glanced up at the screen and let out a sigh. “Looks like service is pretty limited and I assume you disconnected your Wi-Fi so I can’t access the camera anyway.”
He looked at the phone, and sure enough, only one bar was lit. “We’re off the grid until further notice.”
“Okay, okay.” She wiggled her fingers at the phone. “I promise not to call anyone. Can I have my phone back?”
“What for?”
“My life is on that phone.”
Giving her back the phone was a bad idea, but she gave him a forlorn look, and like usual, he caved. “I’m not kidding about the communication. Service or no service, you are not to text, call, email, or surf the net. Got it?”
She gave a false salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Chapter Eight
Engine noise woke her. The boat was downshifting. Were they docking?
Shadows engulfed the cabin. A check of her phone showed she’d been out for nearly three hours.
Groaning, Bianca slid back down into the warm covers that smelled like salt, humidity, and Cal—warm and comforting, like her favorite blanket at home. Which made sense since Cal always stole the blankets when he was home and wound himself in them.
She closed her eyes for a second and smiled. The hum of
The
Love Boat
’s engine had lulled her to sleep. A deep sleep she’d desperately needed after the previous days of paranoia and anxiety had kept her fight-or-flight mode fully engaged. How did Cal and men like his SEAL unit live like that on missions?
Her stomach growled, and beside the bed, Maggie’s tail thumped against the floor. “Hi, girl.”
The Lab licked Bianca’s cheek. Dog breath flooded her nose. Shifting away, Bianca patted the dog’s head. As she sat up, the boat angled clockwise and continued to decelerate. She stuck out a hand to stabilize herself and the boat bumped against something, jarring her.
It was the first time she’d been on a boat, but she knew they were definitely coming to a stop. Rising up on her knees, she brushed Cal’s shirt aside to peer outside.
Water, cloudy skies, a long dock that led to shore, and a huge beach house that rose several stories in the air.
Large, reflective windows stared back at her, the low-hanging clouds seemingly perched on the high roof peak.
The engine died. Bianca scrambled off the bunk bed, shoving her phone into her briefcase. They’d stopped for a reason, and she wanted to be ready to disembark if necessary.
Where are we?
She grabbed her dress shirt, still caked with blood, and shoved it in her briefcase with the phone. Probably wise not to wear it in public, but it was the only change of clothes she had unless she wanted to confiscate more T-shirts from Cal. Not a terrible idea, but from the stash she’d taken the current one, she’d noted he didn’t have any to spare.
The cotton of the shirt she was wearing was soft, like it had been worn a hundred times. Maybe it had. Like the sheets, it smelled faintly like Cal and a lot like good old laundry detergent.
Need rushed through her, hot and desperate. Besides her career, Cal was all she had in the world. She’d almost lost him to Grimes. Still might lose him to Tephra. Even if they succeeded in figuring out why she’d become a target of the government and put a stop to it, the divorce would sever their relationship. She rubbed a hand across the fabric at her stomach, willing the sudden cramp there to subside.
Emotions aren’t productive
. She had to shut them down.
Though soft, Cal’s footsteps overhead seemed hurried as he crossed from side to side.
Tying off the boat
. She itched to go up there and see what she could do to help, but knew better. He’d only yell at her to stay below.
Waiting wasn’t her strong suit. Never had been. Her body craved movement, her flight mechanism still engaged. Her mind craved some piece of information, some tidbit of knowledge that would bring this disastrous situation to an end. She’d always lived in her head, her brain needing constant stimulation. While it made her a highly successful analyst, it made for a lonely life. She was far more suited to books, data, and research than to real life.
Far more comfortable sitting behind a computer screen than dealing with an assassin with a hit out on her.
Maggie went to the bottom of the stairs and peered up, expecting Cal. Bianca finger-combed her hair into a fresh ponytail and waited.
A few seconds later, he appeared, his short hair glistening with rain, a blast jacket covering his upper body. “Ready?” he said, his eyes scanning the T-shirt and her briefcase.
Ready for what
? She could only imagine. “Where are we?”
He crossed to the bed and tugged out the drawer below it. Shirts were tossed back and forth until he withdrew a sweatshirt. He tossed it to her and she caught it in midair. “Put this on.”
She set the briefcase on the table, then drew on the sweatshirt. As she pulled her ponytail out of the neckline, he handed her a ball cap. “This too,” he said.
To protect her hair or as a disguise? “Is someone following us?”
“No.” He started for the stairs and patted his leg for the dog to follow. “But we can’t be too careful.”
True. Every city, state, and federal institution had cameras, and video surveillance was no longer limited to government and businesses. Home security was a booming market and most people had a camera on their phone.
From the ground up to the satellites in space, someone somewhere was snapping images and taking videos of everything from ant colonies to major international crises.
“Keep your head down,” Cal instructed as he climbed out of the cabin.
Bianca did, following close behind him. “Can I have that Glock back?”
Was that a chuckle she heard? She couldn’t be sure as they rose to the deck, rain falling lightly and the waves of the water lapping gently against the sides of the boat.
He took her hand and helped her cross from the boat onto the dock. It was designed with two slips for boats. Cal’s sat in one, the other empty. Did that mean the owners of the house were gone?
She tried to keep her head down, but she needed to get a look at her surroundings. Tilting the brim of the hat farther down, she lifted her chin slightly to peer from underneath it.
Maggie jumped from the boat and sprinted down the dock toward the house, letting go of a joyful-sounding bark. Had the dog been here before?
Cal moved beside Bianca, his firm hand going around her elbow. “This way.”
Like there was any other?
The long, wooden dock reminded her of a gang plank on a pirate’s boat. Except she wouldn’t be forced to jump into the ocean at the end, she’d be forced to go back on dry land.
Walk the plank
.
Tephra’s out there somewhere waiting for you
.
Her throat tightened. Her feet refused to move. She didn’t want to stay on
The
Love Boat
forever, hated being on the water, but the safety and simplicity of it beckoned to her.
“B?” Cal’s voice was quiet but urgent in her ear. His hand released her elbow and slid around to the small of her back. “We need to move.”
Move
.
Right
. Bianca forced her rubbery legs to walk. The touch of Cal’s hand on her lower back was light. His gaze swept the area, his other hand hidden under his jacket, holding a gun at the ready, no doubt.
Houses dotted the beach, each with a sizable yard so none were right on top of the other. Some were larger than others, all set back from the sand and water.
Now that her legs were cooperating, she and Cal hustled down the gangplank and hit land. Maggie was already waiting up near the house, wagging her tail and panting like usual.
Bianca’s feet sank in the sand, tiny grains sneaking into her shoes. She and Cal went over a slight incline, passing clumps of tall, stiff, beach grasses, and into the green, well-manicured lawn in direct contrast to the wild, untamed beach.
A few yards in sat an infinity pool and between that and the house’s patio was a lap pool. Cal guided her around both, checking over his shoulder and keeping an eye on their surroundings as he led her to the back door.
Or was it the front?
Depended, she guessed, on whether you considered the beach your front yard or your back.
“Nice place. Whose is it?” Bianca asked again. For some stupid reason, her teeth wanted to chatter like they had on the boat. Her insides were shaking as well and she clamped down on her jaw, wondering how she could be cold when she was sweating under Cal’s sweatshirt.
“Remember Emit Petit?” Cal was looking at a keypad next to the door.
A face from her memory surfaced. “The kid you used to skateboard all over the neighborhood with? The one who broke his femur in three places the summer we were eight?”
He punched some numbers and nodded. “Marlene is with Doctors Without Borders now. She and a couple of her crew got mixed up with some kidnappers last year. You didn’t know?”
Marlene was Emit’s older sister. “No.”
“And here I thought you called all the team’s missions from what you said earlier.”
“I only have say in those involving high-ranking terrorists.” Ferns grew in large pots flanking each side of the double doors. “Didn’t Emit go in the Navy like you? I remember he wanted to fly jets or something.”
The light on the panel went from red to green, and Bianca heard a quiet click of the lock. “He passed all the tests but one. Every time he was under a couple Gs of pressure, he’d throw up. Thought he’d try SEAL training, but that didn’t work out either. He rang out after day two.”
“So this is his place?”
Cal opened the impressive wrought iron French doors, holding one side wide for her and Maggie to enter. “One of Emit’s ways of saying thank you for his sister’s safe return.”
“He gave you the combination to his beach house?”
“It’s his vacation home. Said I could use it anytime. Never expected to need it.”
The inside was as impressive as the outside, the foyer a giant room with a two-story ceiling, dark hardwood floors, a crystal chandelier of swirling blown glass, and a beautiful wrought-iron staircase that curled up to the second floor. Underneath it was an ocean blue wall of cascading water.
Bianca cleaned the raindrops off her glasses, scanning the beautiful interior again once she had them on. It was tasteful and peaceful and didn’t match the memory of Emit in her head.
Cal shut the door and played with the security system. Maggie shook water off her fur and trotted around, sniffing at various pieces of furniture. Bianca removed her shoes and tried to brush off the sand sticking to her feet.