Chapter 12
With Lara and Paulette gone, the Big Shack had turned into a bachelor pad.
Dane walked into the house after a warning call to Toly.
He went in the front door and found pizza boxes and empty glasses strewn around the room, making him feel like he’d arrived too late for the big frat party.
Except there were no sleeping college boys on the couch or floors and no sign of any co-eds in sight.
“Wake up.” Dane banged on each of the bedroom doors and got grunts for response except from Father Donahue’s room. He opened his door.
“Good morning, Dane. I’m ready.”
“Let’s go. There’s been a change of plans.”
The priest’s face paled and then firmed in resolve. He nodded.
Once Dane had corralled Toly, Pavel and Viktor along with the priest—an odd assortment he’d never have put together on purpose—they all gathered at the beach shack.
By the time Cap arrived there wasn’t a square inch of spare space with all the men seated around the dining room table.
Coffee mugs sat in front of every place along with a phone list and a notepad.
Telephones sat in front of Cap, Acer, Father Donahue and Toly.
Viktor and Pavel were not ready for phone-time with their heavy accents and scary voices.
As it was, Toly would only call his own short list of invitees.
Father Donahue would call Max and Sal—or their office—and let them know about the boat reservations. According to Acer, if they were honest, they would tell Donahue they were already on the island. Dane looked forward to listening in on that conversation.
He looked at his watch. It was 9 a.m. They were waiting for the go-ahead from Shana’s FBI sweetheart.
“What time—” he was about to ask her again impatiently.
The long-dormant doorbell rang, stopping him for a second.
Dane quieted the room with an arm motion and went through the hall and living-room-office to the front door, drawing his Glock from his shoulder holster.
He peered sideways from behind the curtains to take a look at the front patio, not bothering to look at the surveillance monitor.
“What the—”
Dane grabbed the handle on his front door and tore it open.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
FBI Special Agent Derek Smith stood poised to pull his gun from his holster, but froze when he saw Dane, gun aimed straight at his chest.
Dane looked past the man, surveying the front and sides of the house and lowered his gun. “Get the hell inside before the neighbors—and whoever the hell else is watching the place—see you.”
They both knew he’d already been observed.
“Don’t worry Dane. We let it slip that we’d be following up with you.
Let’s just say that we put a lot of chatter out there about how we didn’t trust you.
” Derek Smith stepped inside and followed Dane to the dining room.
“And Shana.” He spotted her and Dane wanted to slap the ensuing smile off the man’s face.
Shana came around the table and welcomed Derek with a professional handshake.
“Great idea,” she said. Dane was too consumed by irrational jealousy to know if she meant it or if she was being polite.
He needed to get himself under control. Shana had no feelings or intentions about this fed-dick.
He knew it and it was time he acted like it.
Besides, even if Shana wanted to pursue a relationship with Derek Smith, he needed to get over that too, because he had no hold on her.
The disquieting understanding and finality of that last thought reigned in his stupid lust-induced mind and he invited Derek into the kitchen.
“How about a cup of coffee.”
“Sure.” Derek sounded reluctant as if he suspected Dane would throw some rat poison into it.
“Are we a go for the private ferry?”
“Yes. We’re making arrangements now. With the caveat, as agreed, that Ivanov foots the bill.”
Anatoly grunted. He clearly did not feel comfortable talking with the FBI in the room. Dane was surprised the old reprobate wasn’t hiding under the table.
Shana, Dane and Derek stepped into the kitchen while the men in the dining room picked up their phones to make the calls.
Derek said, “Did you talk to your man at the Coast Guard about what to do about any guests who don’t show up for the boat ride?”
Dane bristled. He barely stopped himself from making a wise-ass remark. Probably would have if it weren’t for Shana stepping on his foot. Not too hard. A warning. He didn’t look at her, but he smiled.
“Yes.”
Derek gave him a worried smile in return. Clearly the FBI man was more comfortable with the more confrontational version of their relationship. Dane must be a hell of an actor to be fooling both of them into thinking there was anything less than a full frontal alpha dog competition between them.
“What’s the status on your end?” Shana did a good imitation of Switzerland personified.
Derek’s face changed when he turned to her. Not coincidentally, a sharp pain stabbed through Dane’s shoulder blades.
“Our surveillance of Max went underground,” Derek said.
“We pulled everyone we’d been using and made it look like we disappeared.
At great expense.” Then he looked at Dane and said, “We—and Homeland Security—are concerned about what Max is doing—whether he’s going to contact another arms dealer, whether he’ll take revenge or whether he’s going to attempt to go forward with a move for leverage—i.e.
kidnapping. We have few details since we pulled surveillance. ”
“Let me guess—you don’t like relying on outsiders for your intel.”
“It’s not something we do. We’re hoping to get some new audio surveillance by noon, but for now the only reason we’re not pulling the plug on this is that we’ve confirmed that Xavier and Cannelloni are still on the island, theoretically to attend the Bennett-Murphy wedding tomorrow night.”
Dane said, “We already knew that.” But he shouldn’t have said it.
Shana scowled at him and made no attempt to hide her annoyance in front of Smitten Smith.
Dane hoped to hell it was a strategic look, but there was no way of knowing with Shana.
Either that or he was too blinded by his stupid lustful aspirations to see her straight.
It was more than lust that blinded him, but he hated that it was so much more than lust.
Derek’s adoring look at Shana was Dane’s punishment. Or rather Dane’s inability to punch the look from Derek’s face was his punishment.
“We’re letting it leak to one of Sal’s contractors through a mutual friend who informs for us that we’re looking at someone else for an imminent arms deal—and that we’re looking into Beachcomber Investigations.”
“What reason did you give for looking into us?” Dane used his neutral tone. No ice, but no warmth, not even professional rapport was evident.
“No reason. Paranoia in the minds of people on the wrong side of the law will fill in the blanks better than we can.”
Shana said, unnecessarily in Dane’s opinion, “Brilliant.”
Dane drank down the last of his coffee. He didn’t need the caffeine stimulation, but he did need to do something with his hands other than strangle this damn FBI guy.
Acer saved him. Acer always seemed to save him from embarrassing himself. Unlike Cap who liked to watch the spectacle and then laugh about it. Dane wasn’t sure which was more effective. Both friends had their moments.
After scraping back his chair and joining them in the kitchen, Acer said, “We spread word around about the rehearsal dinner tonight. Let it drop to key people. I placed a news article in the Martha’s Vineyard newspaper about the upcoming wedding including a note about the rehearsal dinner.”
“I won’t ask how you did that.” Derek put out his hand to shake Acer’s. He had a friendly look on his face so Acer took his hand. But Dane would bet a month in solitary that Acer squeezed the hell out of Smitten Smith’s relatively small hand. No one had a better iron grip than Acer.
Dane wanted Derek to leave.
He said, “Are the feds all set for dinner tonight?”
Derek flashed a look at Dane and returned his attention to Shana.
“You don’t need to do this. We have—”
“Stop. I’m doing it. I will be at dinner tonight as Lara Bennett, blushing bride to be and then I’ll be at the church tomorrow.”
“You have your dark wig?” Dane asked. He skated the line between agreeing with Smitten Smith and supporting his partner. He knew she could handle herself. In a buried corner of his mind he wanted her to have the opportunity to make the play. In the end, he had her back either way.
“Sassy is delivering it.”
“Why don’t you dye your hair chestnut brown, darlin’?” Dane reached out his hand, took a lock of her hair and twirled it around his fingers. She didn’t pull away or slap his hand. “You’d be stunning.”
She gave him a suspicious look then went to neutral professional. The FBI man shifted on his feet. Dane meant to make him uncomfortable enough to leave. He was fairly certain Shana wanted Special Agent Smitten to leave too.
“I’ll stick with the wig,” she said. “Right now I’m going to the Big Shack to get the wedding gown. Sassy is going to help me make whatever adjustments are needed.”
“Big Shack?” Derek asked. “I’ll come with you.”
“You can leave now,” Dane said. “You’ve done your job here. How many feds between you and Homeland Security will be at the Lucky Parrot tonight?”
Derek looked at him with a less-than-neutral expression. “We’ll have six men on the premises and another four around the perimeter. All undercover.”
“See you at six.”
“I’ll be there early. I’m on the scout team.”
Acer said, “Make sure you’re deep undercover. You were seen here.”
Derek smiled. “Don’t worry about me. You all watch yourselves.” He went for the back door then turned to Shana before he left.
“You be careful Shana. I’ll have your back.” Then he walked out the door and it snapped closed with a solid bang.
“You need to loosen the springs on that door, man,” Acer said.
“I like it that way.”
Shana rolled her eyes. “Are we all set?”
“My part’s done,” Dane said. “I’m waiting for the wedding gown fashion show.”
She shook her head. “Thank you for taking my side against Derek. It meant a lot to me.”
“You’re my girl. I’m always on your side.” He held her eyes and watched them soften. He sensed she would have said more, but her phone rang. She patted his arm on her way by him and put the phone to her ear. Then she disappeared out the door without a sound.
“Snap out of it, Demon,” Acer said.
He was too transparent when he longed for her.
Everyone knew. It wasn’t just the sexual desire, though heaven knew that was stronger than a wolf on the prowl—t was a tugging that started from the pit of his chest. Where his heart should be if he had one, if his hadn’t shriveled to something smaller than the proverbial Grinch’s.
Whatever the pull was, he couldn’t fight it. He’d tried. It exhausted him. He wanted her, wanted her warmth. Needed it. Hated that he needed it. No wonder he was so weary.
He turned to Acer.
“Let’s do our own recon. We don’t want to rely on the feds.”
“Are we sure we want to parade around in public?”
“It’s all part of the charade. Go big or go home. We need to run with the full plan same as if this was a real wedding. No cop-outs to cause suspicion on Max’s part. Sal would go full throttle no matter what, but Max is the one who could get skittish if we give any hint of backing down.”
“I can’t wait to listen to the surveillance audio for this—I’ll be up all night.”
“I’ll listen with you. We’ll both need some sleep later.” And Dane could use the distraction tonight when it was hardest to stop himself from thinking of Shana and what might be between them.