Protector (29 page)

Why was she defending him when not a half hour earlier she’d given him the boot? “Jolynn, this is my job. I have connections. Trust me.”

She grabbed hold of his shirt, right above the envelope, and tugged with surprising strength. “I’m getting really tired of watching men get themselves killed. Take the damned envelope if you want it and get out of here. Now. But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to stay around for your suicide mission.”

Her spine straight with fragile poise, she pushed away
from him, palm flat to the envelope. Turning on one heel, she left, the door closing with an almost imperceptible click. The following slam of the front door reverberated.

Chuck stroked along the envelope, nothing but a pack of papers. He knew what he would do, what he had to do. Just as he’d decided back at the cottage, he needed to show Jolynn once and for all that men could be trusted.
He
could be trusted to take care of her. “Okay, Taylor. I’ll see what I can do with this… for her.”

“Of course.”

“If I find anything in here to incriminate you, you’re going down with the rest of them.”

“You won’t find it.” Taylor had the gall to smile, spinning the gilded globe beside his desk.

“And if I
do
?” Chuck pressed.

The smile faded. “All I ask is that you protect my daughter.”

Taylor’s green eyes locked on to his. He felt an odd kinship with the man, linked by their concern for the same woman.

“Yes, sir.” For that second he gave Josiah Taylor the respect due him as Jolynn’s father.

Chuck lifted the envelope, tucking it under his arm. Backing away from the desk, he stepped into the hall. He forced his stride to stay even as he looked around the colossal hall, up to the cathedral ceiling that sure enough had a mural of naked angels. Somehow he couldn’t imagine his practical Jolynn growing up in a place like this.

Was she so different from his first impression of flashy, in-his-face confidence? Had their experiences changed her as they had him, or had he simply misjudged her from the start?

He charged past a maid on a ladder dusting the top of a statue and out the front door. The Fiat still waited where he’d left it and he started toward the car… only something caught his eye. Back in the days when he’d been a navigator, he could pick out the tiniest of dots on the horizon or the briefest blips on a radar screen. His flying days were over, but the instincts and the skills lived on. And right now, something definitely had snagged his attention.

He stared past the vehicle to a gazebo nestled in a far corner of the sculptured hedges. Vines twined through the latticework so densely the structure was almost impenetrable. A hint of red shone through, the unmistakable shade of Jolynn’s hair.

The envelope burned his side where his arm held it secure. Jolynn confused him more than the most intricate of cases. She’d made it clear she wanted him to go. She may not trust in what they’d shared at the cottage but he couldn’t turn away from her that easily.

By God, he would be sure she was safe, and the best way he could do that? Take Taylor’s information back to the ship and see what he, Berg, and Nuñez could scare up through their intel networks.

Whether or not she wanted him, he would be watching her back, damn it.

Sinking behind the steering wheel, he tossed the envelope onto the seat beside him where Jolynn had been, where she belonged now. He cranked the Fiat and drove, the winding lane giving him too much time for regrets.

Throughout his career in the air force, he’d flown combat in Afghanistan. He’d flown test missions on aircraft the world didn’t even know about yet. But he couldn’t make one stubborn redhead walk away from her crooked father.

Beyond the front gate, he checked left, then right, not that there was much risk of oncoming traffic leading into the country estate. As he looked out the passenger window, something off-kilter snagged his radar eye, something on the opposite seat.

A thumb drive?

A thumb drive had slid from beneath the envelope, the edge just poking out. Chuck snatched the thumb drive from under the envelope, a slip of paper fluttering to the floor.

He opened a note written in Jolynn’s scrawl.
Someone has access to the microprocessor timing code for the slot machines. The code is being used to launder money through the casino through rigged wins.

Chuck twisted to look over his shoulder at the sprawling house. The armless statue poised in the middle of the fountain seemed to mock him across the distance, claiming Jolynn once and for all.

The gates clanged shut, locked, sealed. And what he held in his hand very likely didn’t have a damn thing to do with money laundering.

But could well offer a clue about how data to build a dirty nuke was being shuffled through
Fortuna
slot machines.

*  *  *

Jolynn savored the caress of water streaming from her body as Chuck loved her. He held her close, safe. His hands now skimmed over her body, curving around the gentle swell of her stomach where she carried his child, their child.

The spray of the shower chilled to a biting sting.

He pulled away, his brown eyes filled with scorn.

“Chuck?”
She tried to reach for him, but her arms wouldn’t obey. She looked down and her arms were gone, just like on the amputated Venus statue.

“Good-bye, Jolynn.” He backed up another step, their baby cradled in his hands now in that crazy senselessness of dreams.

“Chuck, come back. I don’t understand.”

“I want you, Lynnie, not some cold, stone statue.
”

His words rang like a gunshot through the maze of hedges, like the bullet that had taken down her uncle. Chuck’s body blurred and became two men, just like that day, two faceless gunmen…

Jolynn startled awake, the wood planks of the gazebo uncomfortable beneath her. Exhausted from a night of no sleep and the wrenching emotions of the day, she realized she must have fallen asleep. She brushed a hand across her brow, smoothing her hair from her eyes.

She wanted to cry.

She needed to cry.

But the tears wouldn’t come.

No great surprise since she felt dried up inside. Her head flopped back against the wall. He was gone. She could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers, smell him, feel him. Want him.

A month ago, she would have given anything to hear her father’s explanation for why he had turned from her after Uncle Simon’s death. Any joy was obliterated by the ache of having lost Chuck.

At least he was safe.

What if she and Chuck had met under normal circumstances, maybe at some vintage car show. She had often wondered if there could ever be a man for her, Jolynn Taylor, a brainy,
awkward girl who liked old cars and hated cooking.

From the middle of the garden, Venus de Milo showered water over the choir of fish at her feet. Jolynn studied the statue she’d thrown rocks at eighteen years ago, the day her uncle had died. The day she’d waited out here for her father, hoping he would finally notice her. Only now, she felt none of the inadequacies, none of the insecurities.

Again, she’d lost the most important man in her life, Chuck, instead of her father. However, this time, the man had left her something. A sense of her own self-worth.

“Hey, little girl.”

Jolynn looked beside her and found Hebert waiting at the base of the gazebo steps. His beefy arms unfolded and spread wide. She flew into his embrace.

He patted her back with his clumsy paw of a hand. “You okay?”

“Not right now, but I’m going to be.”

He held her tighter, the almost bruising force of his hug a welcome ache in exchange for the security of his love.

How many times had she run to Bear during her childhood? Even before her father had distanced himself after Uncle Simon’s murder, Hebert Benoit— Bear— was the one she’d turned to with her problems.

She pulled back, staring up at his dear, craggy face. “Thank you, Bear.”

He smiled.

She cried.

*  *  *

Wearing a ball cap and using one of the fake IDs Berg and Nuñez had cooked up, Chuck slipped back onto the
Fortuna
at
this final stop before they reached Genoa. No doubt, Chuck Tanaka wouldn’t be welcome. However, “Tim Kano” had been listed in the ship’s computers as a guest for the whole cruise for just such a scenario if his Charles Tomas cover was blown. In fact, they all had a second name and room booked in case their identities were compromised.

Angry as hell at life, he charged down the corridor deep in the ship’s belly, thumb drive burning a hole in his pocket. The engine room hummed louder and louder the closer he came to Berg’s crappy cabin that most travel agents couldn’t give away. Chuck keyed open the lock and shoved inside. Colonel Scanlon sat in front of the computers while Berg sprawled on the top bunk snoring lowly.

Chuck pushed the door closed tightly. “Where’s Nuñez?”

“Mingling. Chasing down some leads the authorities got out of Grassi. Keeping an eye on our favorite row of slot machines, looking out for our three suspects. If anyone can spot a person in disguise, it’s Nuñez. Today, he’s pretending to be a French artist looking to win enough money to fund his own gallery showing.”

“This may help you.” Chuck slapped the thumb drive by the computers.

Scanlon’s eyes narrowed. “Have a seat, Captain.”

Chuck didn’t budge.

“Sit. That’s an order.” His tone brooked no argument.

Too weary to argue, Chuck fell into the chair.

Scanlon reached across and raked the thumb drive to his side of the desk. “What do we have here?”

“Data straight from the
Fortuna
’s accounting office. Jolynn passed it along thinking it would help us with a money-laundering investigation. I suspect this may be why
they were after her by the catacombs, regardless of what Grassi said.”

He suppressed a yawn as he rubbed his neck. Glancing around the room, he wondered where they stashed the coffee machine. He could use a cup… or five. “There’s data from the fund-raiser, which is funded by a percentage from the slot machines. The way those slot machines keep popping up in the investigation makes me wonder if they’ve been using the scholarship fund to move cash to fund the whole terrorist operation.”

Colonel Scanlon plugged in the thumb drive, his brow furrowing while he waited for the data to upload. “Could well be. What’s your take on Lucy Taylor? Do you think she worked with Adolpho Grassi in spite of what he says? He’s her fiancé and she was in charge of the scholarship. She’s got expensive habits. Big debts. Makes sense that Grassi would fall on his sword for the woman he loves. Quite frankly, I just can’t see him pulling this off on his own the way he claims.”

“My gut says it’s not her, but you know my faith in my gut isn’t at an all-time high right now.” He had to believe Lucy hadn’t known about the death threats, or he’d go crazy worrying about Jolynn alone with her.

The colonel turned away from the screens. “Are you all right?”

“Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” With a strange feeling of déjà vu, he heard himself utter almost the exact words Taylor had said to him the day before. Standing in the old man’s shoes pinched.

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s your job. It’s not me she wants, Captain.”

“How about you tell her that.” Bitterness crept into his voice.

The colonel looked heavenward. “Lord preserve me from ignorant company-grade officers.” He jerked a thumb toward the computer screens behind him filling with encrypted data. “Think about who gave you this. I’m curious as to when she passed it over.”

“When she pitched me out of her father’s house.”

“Why would she do that?” Scanlon’s voice sounded suspiciously condescending. “What would you have done if she simply passed the information over to you?”

“Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t have left her in that pit of vipers. She should be with me right now. This thing’s bigger than Grassi, and they won’t want Jolynn snooping around. If she stays with me while we find the proof, I could be there the next time they try to… shoot in her direction.” He deflated into the chair. His arms hung limp, knuckles dragging the floor.

The colonel nudged.“She wanted to…”

“Keep me safe?”

“Bingo, Captain.”

“Damn…” Chuck forked his fingers through his hair. “When did you go into the Match. com business?”

“Let’s just say this cruise has been a real eye-opener for both of us.” Scanlon clapped him on the shoulder, his assessing stare too insightful. “You have to know by now, Chuck, you’re not only about the flying and techno details. You’ve got an instinct for this work. It carried you through that hellish time in Turkey and it’s served you invaluably here as well.”

Chuck looked away before the colonel could see just how much Jolynn had knocked him off balance. He studied the computer screen behind the colonel with the encryption decoder picking apart the puzzle like a car engine and…

“Holy shit, sir.” Chuck shot to his feet and thumped
sleeping Berg awake on the top bunk. “Get up. Now. Grassi has been playing us with his confessions. I know exactly how they’re moving the data, and if what I’m seeing is right, the final transmission will take place here on the
Fortuna
tomorrow night.”