Deception (Southern Comfort) (40 page)

And there was no denying that the vibes Josh had gotten off Dane indicated a sense of possessiveness he’d recognized right away.  Because it was disgustingly close to the way Josh felt.  So maybe both Wilcoxes were in this up to their necks. The father had simply helped the son by setting up the ruse which enabled Sam’s abduction.

“I’ve got it,” Kathleen said, interrupting his ruminations.  “The truck’s registration leads to the Mount Pleasant fire department.  Station six.  You may have been right about the connection to the fire that killed Salinas.”

Josh closed his eyes and uttered a string of curses.  In order not to tip off whoever may or may not be involved at the department, they’d have to go over there and get their answers in person.  A phone call could very likely end up flushing their prey into running.  It would require at least a half hour of dead time spent driving – thirty minutes longer for whoever had Sam to do whatever it was they were planning to do.  At this point, considering the scope of the investigation and the level of the criminal activity involved, they couldn’t risk dragging any other law enforcement agencies into it. 

He wasn’t entirely certain who to trust.

SAM
allowed herself to whimper over the various aches in her battered body, which she would have bitten her tongue in half to stifle otherwise.  But the sympathy card was one of the last in the deck, and she’d play it if she had to.

“You’re hurt,” Dane said, loosening his grip to look her over.  His eyes lit like hot coals when they touched upon the garish bruises which colored her throat.  The combination of sympathy and very real anger on his face made her feel guilty for using his feelings for her against him.  

But she pushed the inexpedient emotion aside.  There was a goal here that she couldn’t lose sight of and she’d do whatever she had to do to attain it.

“I, uh, missed my last dose of painkillers.”

“Bastard,” Dane said under his breath after a moment, though she wasn’t sure if he was referring to the man who’d attempted to murder her or to his father.  But he was pretty much correct on either count.  He cupped her cheek in his hand, placed a butterfly kiss on the tip of her nose. She willed herself not to retreat. 

“There might be some aspirin in the head.” He indicated a small door disguised so cleverly that she hadn’t even noticed it earlier.  “You want me to take a look?  I know it’s not as strong as a prescription, but it has to be better than nothing.  Or a hot shower, maybe?  Would that help?”

The urge to swear at him was squelched with great difficulty.  Why did he have to be so damn solicitous?  She was feeling bad about this already.  “I’m, um, allergic to aspirin,” she lied, trying to think of a plausible reason to refuse the help he offered.  A hot shower actually sounded fantastic, but she wasn’t about to strip naked again. “And I’m not supposed to, um, get my stitches wet for a day or two.”

She sounded like a complete idiot, but Dane was so determined to make things up to her that he was more gullible than he might be otherwise.  “Right,” he agreed, looking desperate.  Sam waited patiently for him to think it through.  She only hoped his thoughts would follow the same path hers had, and that he had the necessary items available. 

She watched his eyes go bright with relief as the light almost literally dawned.

“Maybe a glass of liquor,” he suggested, and Sam tried not to give herself away by turning  a jubilant cartwheel.  “I’ve… noticed that you don’t really drink alcohol, but it has a numbing effect that might help you.  I could probably stand a drink myself.”

Guilt stabbed through her, right on cue.  He really had been paying attention.

“That would be great.” She feigned innocence.

He smiled almost happily and climbed to his feet, helping her to gain her own footing in the process. Then he guided her cautiously to the chair.  When he’d seen her settled he stepped back, cocking his head in question.  “Any idea what kind you might like?  We’ve got pretty much everything stocked.  Maybe a nice cordial,” he suggested, almost to himself.  “They’re usually sweeter, not as difficult to stomach.”

And the bottles they came in usually weren’t that heavy.  “How about… rum,” she suggested, eyelid twitching.  Rum was so ubiquitous it practically came by the barrel.  A nice, big bottle was just what she needed. 

“Rum?” he asked, eyeing her.  Dane Wilcox was not entirely stupid.  He was unfortunately pretty damn bright.  So she smiled at him a little, just enough to look sweetly pathetic, and watched his whole face soften with unmistakable affection.

She felt like a total shit.

“I tasted some of the spiced kind one time.” Used to practically inject it intravenously.  “It was pretty good when I mixed it with Coke.” 

“Then rum it is,” he agreed, solicitous.  “I’ll bring a couple glasses so that I can join you.  Can’t have you drinking alone.”

Glasses weren’t going to cut it.  “Do you think one drink will do it?”

“I’ll bring the bottle,” he suggested to Sam’s relief and regret.

Dane strode to the door, examined the knob in his hand, and then finally reached into his pocket.  He glanced over guiltily as he withdrew a key.  “I’m sorry,” he said, when it became clear what he intended.  He was going to lock her in.  The guilt she’d been feeling gave way to the rallying force of anger, infusing her with the will to follow her plan.

Dane’s lip
s rolled together in a grimace.  “Until Dad understands that he’ll be able to trust you, I’m afraid that I’m unable to trust him.”

Sam’s anger ran out in a whoosh when she realized he just wanted to protect her.

But whatever his motivations, the fact remained that she wasn’t his to protect.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“WHERE
is she?” Anger pulsed through Josh’s veins like a second heartbeat as he stared into the frightened yet belligerent face of the firefighter who’d taken Sam. 

Luck had been on their side, because the captain at the station in question had no qualms about telling what he knew.  The truck they were inquiring about was supposed to be undergoing repairs, over at Jernigan’s Automotive on Highway Seventeen.  The proprietor, Norman Jernigan, was the brother of o
ne of their own volunteer firemen, Danny.

The captain believed both brothers could be found at their weekly poker game, in the little apartment they maintained over the garage. 

Josh, Kathleen and Mac had indeed found them, along with a handful of miscellaneous friends, hunkered over a big, scarred table amidst a haze of smoke, beer bottles and processed snack foods.

Danny Jernigan had distinguished himself from the others right away by attempting to break and run.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried bluffing, pathetically ineffective since he was sweating bullets.  He was pressed against the back of the chair Mac had muscled him into, nervous brown eyes showing white around the edges. They fixed on Kathleen, and he tried a smile, obviously in some vain hope to charm her into believing him.

She slapped him back with a “Get real.” 

Skimming over Mac, who anyone in their right mind wouldn’t turn to for sympathy, and Josh, who was clearly homicidal, he finally fixed panicked eyes on his brother.  The other guests had either faded into the woodwork or outright bolted when things got sticky.  The older Jernigan crossed thick arms over an oil-stained shirt and shook his dark head at his brother in disgust.

“Christ, Danny.  What kind of bullshit have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“How about arson,” Josh suggested, getting all up in the younger man’s grille.  “Felony kidnapping.  Murder.”

“Hey, I didn’t kill anybody!”

Josh stepped back, because he had him.

Danny slumped, but tried to rally.  “And I didn’t do any of that other stuff either.  You must have the wrong guy.”

Josh pulled out the photos he’d made from the video footage and pushed them under Jernigan’s nose.  “You want to try that again?”

Looking over his brother’s shoulder with narrowed eyes, Norman made a noise of disgust.  “You kidnapped that woman, Danny?  What’s the hell’s wrong with you?!”

“They said they’d kill me!” Danny admitted in a panicked burst.  “And you, too!”  He gestured wildly at his brother. 

“Who?”  Kathleen cut through the bullshit.

“I…” he looked up at her with his own death in his eyes.  “I can’t tell you. They’ll kill me if I talk.”

“Yeah, well I
might just kill you if you don’t,” Josh chimed in “so you’ve got yourself a catch twenty-two.”

“Hey,” Norman tossed in on behalf of his brother.

“You can’t say that,” Danny hedged, obviously buoyed by the support.  “You’re a cop.”

“Which means I have really good aim.”

Danny stared, realized Josh wasn’t quite bluffing, and folded.  “You’ll have to protect me,” he pleaded.  “If I tell you, you have to protect me.”

“You tell me where I can find her and you have my word I’ll do everything I can.”

“Who threatened you, Danny?” Kathleen asked.

“I… I don’t know who it was, specifically.  I’d, uh, I’d run into a little trouble with some bets that I made.  Put some money on a game one night, just for the hell of it. Tripled my money, so I was stoked.  It was a lot easier than playing with these guys,” he jerked a thumb at his brother.  “I never win.”

“Could we get to the point anytime soon?”

Jernigan frowned at Josh but acquiesced.  “Long story short, I got in over my head, owed a hell of a lot more than I could pay, and one night some guy jumped me outside my apartment.  He worked me over but good, then told me his boss was willing to work out a deal.  He had an old warehouse he wanted to burn down to get the insurance.  Being a firefighter, I knew how to do it.  So I did it and that was supposed to be the end of it.”

“But it wasn’t?” Kathleen prompted. 

“No.  They kept coming back, asking me for more favors.  But then earlier today, this guy calls, tells me I’m gonna have to kidnap some woman.  Tells me exactly how to go about it, and if I do this they’ll leave me alone.  I said, no way I’m kidnapping anybody, and then the guy starts describing what Norman’s doing just then.  He was obviously sitting outside the shop, watching.  I didn’t know what else to do.”  He looked up at his brother plaintively. 

Josh was pretty sure that if they hadn’t tracked Jernigan down, he would have been a smear on the pavement in the near future.  “Where did you do your gambling?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“A little dive called the Roadhouse, over on the other side of the city.”

Collective breaths were released all around.  “And where did you take the woman?”

Jernigan swallowed, then looked Josh in the eye.  “The City Marina,” he admitted reluctantly.  “I put her on a boat at the marina.”

“
THANKS
,” Sam said as Dane handed her the tumbler of rum and Coke.  She eyed him cautiously while he mixed his own, having set the bottle on a shelf which also housed a small TV.  He turned to watch her, swirling his drink as he leaned back, so she took a small sip and made the appropriate grimace.

“Too strong?” he asked, ever considerate. 

“It’s fine,” she lied, because she used to drink them a lot stronger.   The Coke was so sweet it ruined the delicious bite of the rum. 

She was still sitting in the chair he’d left her in, legs tucked a bit awkwardly beside her bottom. The comforter that she’d wound around herself had settled loosely in the vicinity of her hips.  When she slanted another glance at Dane, she couldn’t help but notice that his gaze had shifted lower. 

Nostrils flaring slightly, he slammed his drink and looked away.

Sam did a cursory examination of the state of her T-shirt, the thin material stretched taut over her breasts.  She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling absolutely disgusted over what she must do, but she couldn’t afford to wait around for someone to come riding to her rescue.  Poor Josh would have no way of knowing that she was heading out to sea, and before that yacht hit the open water of the ocean she was determined to no longer be on it. 

The idea of those sharks Alan Wilcox threatened her with almost made her question her ability to follow through, but when she considered spending the rest of her life in the company of Dane’s crazy father, she decided ocean dwelling predators weren’t so bad.

It was the land sharks you had to watch out for.

So she took another drink for fortitude and eased her feet to the floor.

Dane’s gaz
e swung back toward her.

She returned it with trepidation, and just the tiniest bit of heat.

Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Dane continued to hold the eye contact. A whole flurry of emotions flitted across his face, finally settling on lust.  It was sex that was driving him now.  Knowing it, knowing that it was the easiest way to distract him, Sam allowed the tip of her tongue to gently wet her lips.

Dane made a small noise in his throat.  Then being more of a gentleman than she’d ever have given him credit for, he turned it into a cough.