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Chapter 3
The man leaned casually against the front fender of her rented Jeep, watching her. Waiting for his words to sink in. Waiting for her to crack. Andie swallowed the fear, wondering if she would ever be able to forget the bitter taste of it or let go of the memories.
She’d been nervous before in her life; she’d even been afraid. When she’d been eighteen and had been in the back seat of the car with her parents when an oncoming car had crossed into their lane, she’d been terrified. Not just in those brief seconds before the collision, but in the months afterward. She’d walked away, physically unhurt while her parents had died, leaving her alone in the world. Later, she’d been afraid when she’d married Kray, only to find he wasn’t the suave businessman she’d imagined, but was instead a cold-blooded killer.
But none of those experiences, none of those fears, prepared her for the heart-pounding terror that had gripped her ever since her ex-husband had stolen her son. She’d lived with the fear, had even grown used to the sweaty palms and jumpy nerves. Until today. Until she’d come so close to escaping with Bobby, only to be captured by a stranger who looked at her as if he hated her.
So if I’m with Kray, this is where I make my move.
Andie still clutched the binoculars in her hand. She lowered them to her waist, prepared to throw them at him if he made a move. Not that being hit by them would slow him down much. As he’d already pointed out, he was bigger, stronger and armed. He also moved through the jungle with the casual competence of someone who had been through this before.
Was he with Kray, or someone else? She didn’t know. He hadn’t killed her. Yet. She took a step back toward Bobby. Her son was her only concern. He had to get away from Kray. If he stayed with his father—She shook her head. She couldn’t think about that.
Jeff didn’t budge from where he leaned against her rental. She moved back again, then held out her hand. Bobby slipped his palm against hers as his fingers closed around hers trustingly. They would run, she decided, trying to pick a direction without actually looking around them. She would have to count on adrenaline to give her speed.
Jeff pushed off the vehicle and placed his hands on his hips. He didn’t tower over her, so he couldn’t be more than six foot one or two. His hat shaded his face, hiding his eyes and concealing his expression. He wore a camouflage-colored shirt and pants, heavy boots and a holster. There were several compartments attached to his leather belt. She studied them to avoid looking at the pistol.
“Once they dock, it’ll take them about two minutes to get mobilized,” Jeff said, his low voice calm, as if he were discussing the weather. “He’ll call for reinforcements from around the island. They’ll be looking for a woman and a child traveling alone. Within the hour he’ll know about the rental car charge on your credit card, and by nightfall he’ll figure out you flew from the States into San Juan.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Someone who’s willing to help.”
Andie wanted to believe him. She’d spent the past six years looking over her shoulder, always afraid that Kray would show up to take her child away from her, or maybe even drag her back. She hadn’t dared get close to anyone because she couldn’t explain about her past. One mistake, she thought for the thousandth time. How long was she going to have to pay for one mistake?
“Are you with the U.S. military?” she asked, hoping he would say yes.
He shook his head.
“Let me guess. You’re some sort of spy.”
His posture didn’t change, nor did the straight line of his mouth. I can’t do this anymore, she thought, clinging desperately to her fragile grip on reality. It was too much. She was so far out of her element; she didn’t know the rules anymore.
“How were you planning to get off the island?” he asked again.
If he was with Kray, he would already be taking her back to the house, she told herself. If he was with Kray, she wasn’t getting off the island anyway, so what did it matter if he knew her plan? And if he wasn’t, well, she could use a little expert assistance.
“I still don’t trust you,” she said.
“Good. You don’t have to trust me. Just pay attention to my instructions and we’ll all get out of this alive.”
That’s all she wanted. To get Bobby and herself out of here alive. Once they were back on American soil, she could disappear.
“I’ve hired a private plane to fly us to San Juan. There are several flights from there to Florida tonight.”
“How do you know you can trust this guy?”
“I don’t trust him, but I’m paying enough.”
“What if Kray pays more?”
She didn’t have an answer for that. She couldn’t bear to think about it.
“What time are you supposed to meet the pilot?” he asked.
“One o’clock.”
He glanced up at the sky as if he could use the sun to tell time. “Then we’d better get going.” He bent down, picked up his backpack and flung it into the back seat. When she didn’t move, he glanced at her. “You driving or do you want me to?”
“Where are we going?” Now that she’d thrown in with him, she was nervous about getting into the Jeep. What if he had been toying with her?
“We need to get out of here. My Jeep is about two miles down the road. It isn’t a rental, so it can’t be traced. We’ll leave yours there and then—”
“I can’t just leave this at the side of the road.”
“Why not?” he asked as he sat in the passenger seat.
“The rental company will assume I stole it. I don’t need them looking for me as well as Kray.”
“If you’re worried about that, you can call the car rental company when you get to Florida. Tell them that you’ve returned home unexpectedly and that they should come and collect the car. We’ll leave the key under the seat mat.”
She couldn’t think of any more excuses, so she led Bobby over to the Jeep and opened the driver’s door. The boy scrambled in to the back seat. Andie then slid in and inserted the key into the ignition.
“Drive back the way you came,” Jeff said, not bothering to look at her. “In a few minutes you’ll see a dirt turnout, like this one, only deeper. My Jeep is concealed behind some trees. We’ll leave yours in its place. With any luck, Kray and his men won’t find it before you’ve left the island.”
“I think I used up all my luck getting Bobby,” she said and backed the vehicle up so that she could turn it around and head toward town.
Jeff didn’t answer her. She wasn’t surprised. She could feel the disdain radiating from him. He judged her by Kray’s standards. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. She still judged herself for what had happened six and a half years ago. She should have known. She should have seen the clues. But she hadn’t. She’d been young and stupid, and now she and her child were paying the price.
The steering was stiff on her rental. Andie gripped the plastic wheel tightly and concentrated on the road ahead. There wasn’t any traffic this far out on the island. She hadn’t seen anyone when she’d driven in, either. That was something. The man beside her sat comfortably in the bucket seat. Almost as if he were relaxed. If she hadn’t noticed the watchful pose of his head or the way his right hand was never far from his gun, she would have assumed he wasn’t worried about what they were doing.
They rounded a bend in the narrow two-lane road. “Over there,” Jeff said, pointing toward a turnoff.
As she turned off the ignition, he opened the passenger door. He bent over and collected her purse from the glove box, then grabbed his backpack from the seat behind him.
“Through here,” he said, leading the way without bothering to make sure she followed.
Andie wondered if it was because he assumed she would trail after him, knowing he was her greatest chance at survival or if it was because he didn’t care if she came with him or not. Then she frowned. He’d taken her purse, which had all her cash. Subtle but deadly. That’s how she would describe Jeff with-no-last-name.
She opened the trunk and removed the small suitcase she’d brought. Bobby climbed out of the rental and stood next to her.
“I’m hungry,” he said.
She opened the bag of bread and pulled out a slice.
He grimaced. “I want a hot dog.”
“Later, honey. This is all we have now. When we get to San Juan, I’ll buy you a hot dog.”
“He needs to get changed,” Jeff said.
“Why?”
“Kray has a description of what he’s wearing. It won’t put them off much, but it may help if he has on different clothes.”
“That makes sense.” She opened the suitcase and took out the shorts and T-shirt she’d brought with her.
While she helped Bobby change his clothes, Jeff pulled away several large branches, exposing his Jeep. The vehicle was about ten years older than her rental. The tan paint had given way to rust. The tires were muddy, but closer inspection showed them to be new. The seats were torn and damp from the recent rains. There were a hundred vehicles exactly like this one in the capital city of St. Lucas, all of them belonging to poor locals. She saw instantly that between the new paint and rental sticker, her vehicle had stood out on the roads, even though she’d been trying to blend in.
“Did you buy that?” she asked, repacking the suitcase and zipping it closed.
“Yeah. It’s more expensive, but easier in the end. Cash can’t be traced.”
“I should have thought of that.”
“Why? You’ve got no experience at this.”
“And you have?”
He didn’t answer.
Figures. Rambo types were always monosyllabic. She wondered if they got a pay deduction every time they spoke.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Jeff said.
“I’m ready. Let me just get the box of food.” She set the suitcase down next to his Jeep, then returned to her own vehicle. After slipping the key under the mat, she did a quick check to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind. The rental agreement was still in the glove box. She pocketed that, then closed the trunk and picked up the cardboard box containing her meager supplies.
“There’s plenty of room,” Jeff said, jerking his head toward his open trunk.
She glanced inside, half expecting to see some powerful long-range weapon or a secret decoding device. There was nothing but an oily rag, a jack that looked rusty enough to collapse at the first sign of use and a baseball cap advertising a local beer. She set the box down.
Jeff pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. With the brim shading his eyes and covering his short, cropped hair, she hadn’t seen his coloring, but she’d expected him to be dark, like Kray. Instead, Jeff was blond with blue eyes and the clean-cut good looks of a California surfer. The image was so contrary to what she’d just experienced that she almost smiled. Almost.
Their gazes locked. She saw a flash of cold determination flicker in his gaze, the confidence and willingness to do anything to get the job done. He wasn’t some guy on holiday; he was a professional at this. She didn’t know why he was here, and she didn’t want to know. Better for both of them if she just got out of his way.
“I’m ready,” she said quietly.
He nodded, then dropped his gaze to her legs. “You don’t have any shorts, do you?”
“No. Why?”
“We obviously can’t pass as natives. The next best thing is to go as tourists.”
At that she did smile. “Yeah, right. No one’s going to notice your unusual outfit there, are they?”
Bobby, who’d been following their conversation, sidled over to her and peered at Jeff. “Why’s your shirt all funny like that?”
Jeff glanced down at the fatigues he was wearing. He winked at the boy. The friendly act, so incongruous when compared with who he was and what he’d done, made Andie feel as if she were trapped in a carnival fun house. Everything was distorted and nothing was as it seemed.
“I was playing hide-and-seek,” he said. “With this shirt and these pants, it’s harder for people to see me.”
“Mommy didn’t see you.”
“That’s right,” Andie said. If she’d seen him, she would have taken off in the opposite direction.
“There’s a baseball cap in the trunk,” Jeff said as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “Bobby can wear it.” He nodded his head toward the boy.
When he had unbuttoned the shirt to the waistband of his fatigues, he jerked it free. Andie didn’t know if she should turn her back or run like hell.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Trying to fit in. As you pointed out, I don’t look like a tourist. Yet.”
He pulled the shirt off, exposing a red tank top. He sat on the bumper and unlaced his military boots. After taking off the boots and his socks, he unbuckled the thick leather belt at his waist and laid it on the driver’s seat. He unzipped his pants and slipped them down. Underneath he wore wrinkled white shorts. He pulled the pistol from its holster. For a split second Andie thought she’d made a life-threatening mistake, but he tucked the weapon in the waistband of his shorts, against the small of his back, and pulled the tank top over the bulge.
From his backpack, he dug out a second baseball cap. This one advertised a local brand of rum. He slipped one on his head, then took the other from her hands and adjusted it to the smallest size, then gave it to Bobby. A pair of worn leather sandals completed his outfit. In less than two minutes he’d gone from trained military expert to beach bum.
He was tanned, with long legs and strong arms. She could see the ripple of muscles as he moved. The shorts fitted over his narrow hips, then hung loosely past his thighs. He was right—he did look like a tourist. She glanced at his face, but the brim of the hat hid it from view. It also covered most of his blond hair. Only a half inch or so stuck out the bottom. Conservative haircut, familiarity with weapons, knowledge of Kray and his line of work. If Jeff wasn’t military, he sure was government. She didn’t know if that piece of information made her feel better or worse. She shrugged. At this point, she couldn’t afford to be picky.
Working quickly, he put his fatigues in his backpack. He transferred money and a mean-looking knife to his shorts pocket, then dropped the backpack into the trunk and closed it.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Andie nodded and picked up Bobby. Instead of letting him climb into the back seat, she sat down and pulled him onto her lap. Just in case, she thought. She wanted to be able to run with him, if she had to. Despite the fact Jeff hadn’t taken her to Kray, she still didn’t trust him.
Jeff slipped in beside her and started the engine. He pulled the Jeep in a tight circle, then headed toward the road. As they drove out of the brush, she held her breath, afraid that Kray’s men would be waiting. There was no one on the side of the road. Just her rental sitting in the shade.
He stopped long enough for her to drive it back into his vehicle’s hiding place; then he glanced both ways and hit the gas. They took off toward town.
Andie fought the urge to glance behind them. With the Jeep’s open top and low doors, she felt as if they were completely exposed. That as soon as they were spotted, they would be gunned down.
Violent pictures filled her mind. Not just her wild images about what Kray would do to her if he caught her, but ugly memories from six years ago. From the moment when the pieces had clicked into place and she’d realized her husband wasn’t the man she’d thought him to be.
“Just a couple more hours and you’ll be safe,” Jeff said. “Once you get off the island, you’ll be okay. When you get back to the States, you’re going to have to lay low.”
She nodded. She already knew that much. She had money stashed in a couple of safety deposit boxes in different cities. After Kray had stolen Bobby, it had taken her three weeks to figure out parental kidnapping wasn’t high on anyone’s list of crimes to be solved. Especially when the father in question had taken his son out of the country. Once she’d realized no one was going to help her, she’d come up with her own plan and had quickly put it into action. Ironically, the generous settlement Kray had given her at the time of the divorce would pay for her escape from him.
Bobby leaned back against her and closed his eyes. “You tired, honey?” she asked.
“Nope.”
But his eyelids fluttered shut. She couldn’t blame him. After the morning they’d had, she was exhausted, as well. She wished she could trust someone enough to watch Bobby so she could curl up and sleep for a week, but she couldn’t. She only had herself to depend on.
“There’s a private airstrip north of town,” Jeff said quietly, a few minutes later. “Is that the one you’re going to use?”
Andie glanced at him. He slowed the Jeep and met her gaze. Dark blue eyes, almost the color of her own, stared back at her. His lashes were thick and only a couple of shades darker than his hair, although the tips were lighter, as if they’d been bleached by the sun. He squinted slightly and lines fanned out to his temples.
He was good-looking enough to be the poster boy for the local tourist commission. Come to St. Lucas and find romance. Only, she wasn’t looking for romance, and from what she’d seen of Jeff, he wasn’t too fond of her. She wondered how much of that was because she was obviously in over her head and how much was because she was Kray’s ex-wife. Did it matter? As long as he helped her get away, he could think what he liked.
