He grinned. “He doesn’t think so sometimes.”
She glanced down at the photos spread out on the table. “Did you find anything else?”
“Just the name of the ship. But I think we’re onto something big, Jess. Something dangerous someone doesn’t want exposed.”
“Who?”
“Lighthouse Point PD. We know they’re involved, but we don’t know who.” He grimaced. “They’re not the main players.”
“How do we find out who the main players are?”
He looked at her and frowned. “First of all, there is no ‘we.’”
She frowned back. “I’m involved in this whether you like it or not.”
“What I’d like,” he said, “is for you to go back to the church and stay with Father Matthew.”
It would have been easy to say yes. She was frightened. In the past two days she’d dodged more bullets than most people did in a lifetime. She was worried about Nicolas. Not only was he alone after having so recently lost his mother, but she worried about his safety, too. Nicolas, after all, might have witnessed the murder.
Then Jess remembered Angela’s last request—to keep her son safe—and she knew there was no way she could walk away. She couldn’t bury her head in the sand and hope everything turned out okay. She’d done that too many times in her life and only made things worse.
“I want to finish this,” she said.
He scowled at her. “Things could have turned out a lot worse than they did last night.”
“I’m well aware of the dangers.”
“You have no idea what we’ve walked into or what these people are capable of.”
She glanced down to where the bullet had grazed her arm. “I think I do.”
“Look, Jess, it’s admirable that you want to see Angela’s killers brought to justice. It’s courageous of you to want to be part of it. I can respect that. But you have to be smart about this. The bottom line is you’re not trained to deal with any of this.”
“Don’t even consider trying to talk me out of seeing this through.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’ve already been hurt.” She crossed to him, came
within a fraction of an inch of touching him, but pulled back at the last minute. “Lots of people have been hurt. Angela. Nicolas.” She motioned toward the table where the photos were spread out like some cheap magazine spread. “The young women in those photos. How can you expect me to walk away?”
“Because you’re smart. Because you know I’ll handle it.”
“You’re forgetting one thing, Madrid.”
He lifted a brow.
“I made a promise to Angela.”
“She wouldn’t have wanted you to risk your own life to keep it. Damn it, she asked you to look after her son, not get yourself killed.”
“Madrid, these people are not going to stop until he’s dead if Nicolas witnessed Angela’s murder.”
Her own words made her cringe. To think of the innocent little boy being hurt—or worse—made her feel sick inside. But Jess knew this was not the time to mince words. Whatever was going on at the Lighthouse Point PD had to be exposed and stopped.
“I’m going to see this through,” she said. “It’s up to you whether I finish it with you or without you.”
Chapter Ten
Madrid hated waiting, though in the course of his career he’d been forced to do plenty of it. Nor did he like staying in one place too long, especially when some very powerful people would pay a lot of money to see both him and Jess dead. And then there was the matter of his burgeoning feelings for Jess.
The woman was a study in contradictions. Beautiful and headstrong and vulnerable rolled into one very intriguing package. Madrid knew better than to think of her in any terms other than a witness to a crime he needed to solve.
But he did.
He was attracted to her in a way he’d never been attracted to another woman in his life. The chemistry between them was quite simply something he’d never before experienced—and he’d had plenty of experience when it came to matters of the flesh.
Pacing the kitchen, he glanced at his watch for the dozenth time, wondering when Vanderpol was going to call. If he was going to call, a little voice chimed in.
Cutter called a meeting yesterday, told us not to help you…
Jake’s words rang uncomfortably in his ears. Madrid had figured Cutter wouldn’t be happy about his using the MIDNIGHT Agency’s resources. But the way Madrid saw it, if he wanted to get to the bottom of Angela’s murder, he didn’t have a choice.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep up that pacing.”
Madrid glanced up to see Jess in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching him. Attraction tugged hard and low in his gut. It annoyed him. Made him want to do things he knew would only cause them problems later. He figured he had enough problems at the moment without piling on any more.
“It’s been a few hours,” he growled. “Why the hell hasn’t he called?”
She crossed to him, gave him an earnest look that made him think about kissing her. “Maybe he’s waiting for a call back, too. Maybe he’s still gathering information. Maybe he ran into problems and can’t get the information you need.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sick of all these damn maybes.” Frustrated, he turned away and walked over to the counter.
Dread mixed with anticipation roiled inside him when he heard Jess follow. “If your arm is hurting, there are a few more ibuprofen in the first aid kit.”
Madrid gave a curt nod, but he didn’t look at her. The pain in his arm was only a small part of what was eating at him. The truth of the matter was he didn’t like being cooped up with a woman who turned him into a walk
ing hard-on. A woman he could never have because every person he’d ever cared for had met an untimely death. He didn’t want that to happen to Jess.
So why is she here with you now, hotshot?
Because I’m too damn weak to send her away.
“Here.”
He actually started at the sound of her voice. He swung around to see her holding two tablets and a bottle of water. “This will help.”
Judging by the jump of his pulse, he didn’t think so. “Thanks.”
He downed the tablets and was halfway through the water when his cell phone trilled. His gaze went to Jess. She looked back at him, her eyes wide. She crossed her fingers and held them up for him to see.
Madrid unsnapped the cell, saw Vanderpol’s name flicker in the window. “What do you have for me?”
“The only container ship I could find with a name even close to the partial you gave me is the
Xanadu Rose
.”
“Where?”
“Port of Eureka. Humboldt Bay. California.”
“That’s not far from here.”
“According to shipping records, the ship is docked there right now.”
If the records were reliable, Madrid thought.
“Is this something you’re going to need backup on?” Jake asked.
“As soon as I find the right vessel, I’ll call.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
Knowing Jake Vanderpol would do just about any
thing for his fellow agents, Madrid grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and hit the end button.
Jess was already gathering the photos and first aid kit. “Where?” she asked.
“Port of Eureka. Humboldt Bay.”
“I know where it is.” Her brows went together. “It’s an hour from here. By the time we get there it’ll be dark.”
“Best time of the day for what we have to do.”
“If you don’t mind the rats.”
Madrid picked up the gun, shoved it into his waistband. “Honey, the rats are the least of our worries.”
L
IGHTNING FLICKERED
to the west as Madrid drove slowly past the massive chain-link gates that opened to the shipyard. Intermittent rain spattered against the dirty asphalt. The wind had picked up, sending the surrounding trees into a frantic dance. Jess couldn’t think of a worse night for an illegal foray into a shipyard.
A guardhouse stood left of the gate. The bright lights inside revealed two uniformed and armed port police officers.
“I guess that rules out making entry the old-fashioned way,” Madrid growled as he sped past.
“So how do we get in?” Jess asked.
“We make our own gate.”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
“Getting in is the easy part.” He looked away from his driving and made eye contact. “Getting out in one piece is going to iffy.”
She liked the sound of that even less.
They had stopped at a discount store and purchased
several items before making the drive to Eureka. Bolt cutters. Gloves. Flashlight. Forty feet of rope. A small marine anchor. Disposable camera. A canvas duffel in which to carry everything. Though they were relatively well equipped for the task at hand, Jess thought it was going to take nothing less than a miracle to pull it off.
Madrid parked the car on a muddy road used by a logging company on the north side of the shipyard. The boughs of tall evergreens cloaked them in darkness. On the forest floor, wisps of fog rose like ghostly fingers.
“You up to a walk?”
She glanced over at Madrid. His eyes were sharp and direct in the semidarkness. “I’m up to it,” she said a little breathlessly.
“Let’s roll.”
Quickly he gathered the items they would need, put them in the duffel and they left the car at a jog. Thunder rumbled as they moved silently through the trees. The wet ground squished beneath Jess’s sneakers. The wind whispered through the trees. Ahead, Madrid moved with the utter silence of a predator on the prowl.
The forest opened to a grassy plain where a twelve-foot chain-link fence rose out of the ground like a sentinel. Three strands of barbed wire capped the top. Madrid and Jess stopped, and for an instant, the only sounds came from their labored breathing.
He turned to her. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
She thought of Angela and Nicolas and nodded. “I don’t want to turn back.”
He grimaced. “Okay.”
Opening the duffel, Madrid removed the bolt cutters
and went to work on the fence. After a dozen snips he’d made a hole big enough for them to pass through. Jess started to duck through it, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He was so close she could feel the heat coming off his body. For several interminable seconds his dark eyes searched hers.
Jess knew what would happen next, but she was helpless to stop it. It was like standing in the middle of a superhighway, waiting to be mowed down by a speeding eighteen-wheeler.
But when he lowered his mouth to hers, she could think of nothing except the feel of his lips against hers. The kiss was raw and primal and powerful enough to curl her toes and make the world around her spin like a top. Adrenaline and desire clashed, like steel dragged across rock at a high rate of speed, shooting sparks high into the air.
Jess knew it was crazy, considering where they were and what they were about to do, but she kissed him back. She reveled in the feel of his mouth against hers. The tight grip of his hands on her shoulders. The tremor she felt run through his body. She wanted to reach for him, pull him closer, but as quickly as his mouth had assailed hers, he pulled back.
Jess blinked, shocked as much by the kiss as her response to it. “What was that for?”
“Luck.”
“If that was a quick peck for luck I’m almost afraid what will happen when we’re not in a hurry.”
For an instant he looked as shocked as she felt. Then his mouth slowly curved. “It’ll be good.”
Taking her hand, he ducked through the opening. Jess followed, her mind reeling, her body vibrating with the aftershocks of the kiss. She knew it was silly to be thinking about something as inconsequential as a kiss when they were about to risk their lives. But the truth of the matter was, there was nothing inconsequential about the way Madrid had kissed her.
There would be consequences.
He took her past a massive fuel storage tank and a low, windowless steel building. Two hundred yards to her left were the lights of the guardhouse. Dead ahead, a cargo ship stood silhouetted against the night sky, its radar mast and wheelhouse jutting from an ocean of containers like a mountain of steel.
The hiss of tires against asphalt sent her heart into her throat. Headlights slashed through the darkness to her left. The next thing she knew she was being pulled toward a dozen or so fifty-gallon steel drums stacked haphazardly against a small building.
“Get down.”
Madrid’s voice registered at about the same time a firm hand pressed her head down.
Jess ducked. Her pulse raced wildly as she peered between two drums. An SUV with some type of logo painted on the door idled slowly past. A spotlight mounted near the mirror on the driver’s side shone on the buildings as the SUV passed. Inside the vehicle, she saw the silhouettes of at least two people.
“Who are they?” she whispered.
“Port police.”
“Ironic that we have to dodge the good guys.”
“Just because they’re wearing the uniform doesn’t mean they’re the good guys.” His hand tightened on hers. “This way.”
The taillights of the SUV faded into the foggy darkness as they dashed across the asphalt toward the docks. There were four ships docked at the small port, including the
Xanadu Rose
. One was a barge, and one a tanker. The only remaining ship at the far end of the dock was a rusty behemoth stacked sky-high with containers.
“What are we looking for?” she asked.
“We know the
Xanadu
isn’t where the women are being held hostage.” Madrid’s eyes scanned the ships as they walked the dock. “Another container ship would be my best bet.”
The first ship they came to, the barge, was in the process of being unloaded. Huge cranes worked beneath massive spotlights.
They skirted the loading zone, sticking to the shadows on the opposite side of the low building. The next vessel was the tanker, with a foreign flag. Avoiding a street lamp, they passed the
Xanadu
and approached the final vessel. The massive ship was in poor condition, but even in the semidarkness Jess could make out the name emblazoned on the hull.
“The
Dorian Rae
,” she whispered.