Chapter 5
They came in hot through the back door hiding behind sunglasses and their Coast Guard uniforms. Normally Dane didn’t mind admiring glances, but he’d withstood the stares of far too many people this morning—pretty much everyone they’d seen—and it was damn unnerving when they were trying to be inconspicuous.
The good news was that they were not being admired for being Dane and Shana, intrepid private investigators. The uniforms worked like magic cloaks of instant stardust making them the target of dreamy looks, appreciation, and all-out hero worship.
It was broad daylight on a sunny day and Dane felt semi-anonymous under his spiffy cap and aviator sunglasses in spite of all the attention.
Shana was less anonymous and drew the lion’s share of attention, even with her voluminous hair pinned in as tight a bun as she could manage at the back of her head.
There was no hiding her luscious body, especially since the only uniform Vendi could find to fit her had been a size too small.
Saying that her skirt was tight didn’t explain the effect. Not even close.
The sight of that white skirt outlining her ass had his balls turning blue.
As he pushed inside the dark back hall behind Shana, he put his hands on her. He had to. Joe Amari, the governor’s chauffeur and close security detail, who also happened to be from their old special ops team, greeted them. He summoned them forward.
Shana pretended he hadn’t touched her, but Dane felt her heat through the material of the uniform skirt stretched over her curves.
“You two are a sight for sore eyes. We thought we’d lost you. For about a minute until you called,” Joe said.
Dane grunted.
“You know Dane has nine lives, Joe,” Shana said as they followed him down the hallway and through the door to the governor’s private library.
Joe chuckled as he met Dane’s eyes. Dane dared him with his stare to say a word
He was no housecat. A jaguar maybe, a stealthy hunter going for the jugular every time.
He sighed. He was thinking of himself the way he used to be, before he met Shana. He didn’t feel so much like that now. He felt goddamn domesticated.
Peter John Douglas stood up from his desk and met them as they came into the room. Joe closed the door. Peter’s wife, Madeline, stood and came to them.
Without fanfare, Peter clasped Dane in a man-hug and fist-pounded his back twice. It had been the standard greeting after beating close calls back in the day when every special ops mission seemed to be a close call. When someone saved someone’s life every time they went out.
Madeline embraced Shana and then gave Dane a heartfelt hug. He watched over her shoulder as Peter embraced Shana. And Shana embraced him back. There’d been no pound on her back. She hadn’t been part of the team then.
The inexplicable resentment on her behalf rose in him.
He tamped it back down to minor annoyance.
Of course Shana was part of their team. Now.
She was acknowledged by everyone to be invaluable.
Had been since their first mission—strike that—assignment together.
He shouldn’t call what he and Shana did as Beachcomber Investigations missions.
They were assignments, sometimes dangerous.
Hell, they’d all been dangerous up to one point or another—he had the scars to prove it.
As did Cap and a few others. But not Shana.
So far Shana had come out of each and every one of their assignments unscathed.
That was not going to change this time.
Though no one had assigned them this case, it was theirs.
“I’m glad we were worried needlessly,” Madeline said.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Dane said. “I’ll explain in a minute. First we need to call Cap and have him check on a friend.” Dane walked to the desk and the secure phone, not waiting for permission.
“The possible hostage?” Peter said.
Dane nodded and punched in Cap’s private cell number, praying he had the phone on him and would answer it discreetly once he saw it was him. The line rang once.
“Jesus Christ Almighty,” Cap said.
“Not quite.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“Officially I’m a ghost. Unofficially I’m with the governor and Shana’s with me.
” Dane listened to Cap’s audible sigh at this confirmation of life.
He’d had an inkling that Cap might be more worried about Shana than him.
He put Cap on speaker. “We’re in Peter’s office with Madeline and Joe. You’re on speaker.”
“Damn. You move fast.”
“I need you to go to check on Sassy—to see if she’s okay.”
“Give me her address.”
Grateful that Cap didn’t bother asking why, Dane rattled off her home address, knowing today was her day off from the pie shop. She closed the place Mondays and Tuesdays and stayed home—or made herself a nuisance at the beach shack, testing out recipes on them like they were guinea pigs.
“I’ll send a man—”
“No. You need to do this yourself. This is all on the QT. Shana and I are dead and no one called you just now. You know nothing about Sassy potentially being in danger. And that goes double for your men.”
“Got it. When will you be back?”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to,” Madeline said. Peter nodded his agreement. Dane gave them a nod of acknowledgment.
He said to Cap, “I’ll be back before our funeral.” He looked at the group staring back at him. “Which should be in a few days.”
“I’ll call you after I check on Sassy.”
“I’ll fill you in on the details of our plan then.” Dane put the receiver back into its cradle.
“What’s going on?” Peter asked. “And how can I help?”
Dane smiled his first true, relaxed smile since the beach shack exploded hours ago.
“Some madman is after Shana. We think it’s Whitey Nash.” Dane explained about their escape by water and the text messages Shana got.
“We’d like to remain dead, convince Whitey of it. We need you and Cap to arrange a press conference announcing our confirmed deaths and then the funeral as soon as possible.”
The governor nodded. Dane gave him the name and number of the small church where the minister owed him a favor. Madeline said she’d get them some clothes.
“I’ll need a disguise in case Whitey knows what I look like,” Dane said.
Then he turned to face the murderously cold look he knew Shana was giving him.
The fact that he’d asked for a disguise only for him and not for her wasn’t lost on her.
She wasn’t going to let him get away with excluding her from the plan.
Not easily anyway. But if he could get Peter on his side, he might have a shot at keeping her here.
“I’m going with you back to the island.” She folded her arms high across her chest and stood with her feet apart as if she were ready to do battle. He knew she was.
But so was he.
“You want to play into his hands?”
“We can keep under wraps for a couple damn days until the funeral. Then we’ll have Cap and his officers on guard to help take him down. I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Maybe you will. But what about Whitey?”
She knew he was asking her if she was going to kill Whitey. She looked around the room. She wasn’t about to give an answer on this stage. It would be tantamount to confessing to premeditated murder.
“He’ll go to the funeral,” she said. “And I’ll be the one to spot him. I need to be there.”
“We have several good quality photos of him from the internet search,” Dane said. “We don’t need you to be the one to ID him.”
“I need to be there,” she insisted, bordering on pleading. Would have pleaded if she didn’t have so damn much pride. She might do it yet.
“Tell us more about this Whitey Nash character,” Peter said.
Shana repeated the story of her arrest of Nash in a matter-of-fact quick telling, leaving out her current fear.
“He knows I’m still alive,” Shana said. It was the fear making her paranoid, but even though she knew it, she couldn’t stop it.
“We need to make him doubt that. We need to take away his motive to kill Sassy for revenge, to punish you,” Dane said.
“We need to find Sassy before he . . .” she couldn’t say it.
Madeline looked at Shana.
“I’ll need a disguise too. An old woman should do it.”
Madeline nodded.
“You’ll be recognizable to Whitey Nash no matter what you do. If he sees you it could jeopardize Sassy’s life. If he has her, he’s only holding her, keeping her alive to entice you back if you survived,” Dane said.
“You don’t know that,” she said. He saw the doubt creep into her eyes.
“Why else would he take Sassy?”
“We haven’t confirmed that Whitey has Sassy yet.”
“And when we do?”
“Then it’s all the more reason for me to go back to the island with you. To rescue her and to get him.”
She stared at him, daring him to disagree, so he did.
“I’ll take Joe with me,” Dane said. Then he took a deep breath and added, “You stay here.”
“No. Fucking. Way.” Green eyes flashed fire as if she were a dragon lady.
Normally Dane would have backed down by now.
But not this time. Not when she was the target and the guy was certifiable.
Not to mention determined. Whitey had already come all the way from Australia to track her down. If it was him.
They really needed to confirm.
Meeting her gaze with a rock-hard stare, he sent his message and then went to the governor’s computer. Tapping the keyboard, he brought up the photos of Whitey, several recent quality photos, and printed them in living color.
“What the hell are you doing?” She didn’t move from her spot. He could hear the hissing anger, the heat of pride and outrage in her voice. No need to turn his head to look at her. He heard Madeline murmur a few things and then she and Shana left the room.
“What the hell are you doing?” Peter asked mildly. Dane looked up and the governor was eyeing the assault Dane had made on his desk, the papers flipping from the printer.
“There’s only one advantage Shana can claim that gives her a right to go back to that island.”
Peter nodded. Joe kept his face passive.
“She may know what the man looks like, intimately, but so will we.” He snatched the papers from the printer and handed copies to Peter and Joe.
“We need to study these and any other photos we can of him after his . . . injury. There are several clear shots of him shortly before he was released. At least that was one precaution the prison took before their inexplicable attack of insanity when they let him go.”
“On that—why do you suppose they released Whitey?” Peter said. “If it were me, and he came up for pardon, I wouldn’t do it. He’s guilty of violent crimes against children. That’s what’s known as unpardonable crimes in this business. The world over. What could possibly have gone wrong?”
“I suspect he either had something on the prison, or the warden. Or maybe he had a good lawyer who found some technical glitch with his trial.” Dane didn’t have time to track that intel down, but it could prove useful.
If this Whitey character was connected or had someone watching his back, Dane wanted to know about it.
Because he intended to execute the man and he intended to get away with it. With as little hassle as possible.
“I’ll look into it,” Peter said.
“When do you want to leave?” Joe asked.
“I have some advice for you on that,” Peter said. “There’s one more thing you’ll need before you go back to the Vineyard.”
“What?” Dane asked, though he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“You need some rest. It’s still early in the day. Why don’t you sleep while I take care of the press conference and funeral arrangements with Cap. You can leave in the dead of night.” Peter looked at Joe and Joe nodded.
“Fine. But I leave with Joe and without Shana. You don’t tell her. As far as she’s concerned, we’re leaving in the morning.” Dane waited for Peter to agree.
Peter let out a deep sigh.
“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I don’t envy you.” He paused, then nodded. “We’ll do it your way. But,” he gave a warning look, “Shana is not my prisoner. I can’t keep her here against her will—check that—I can, but I won’t.”
“Copy that.” What else could Dane say? Peter was right. She was bound to follow him and he couldn’t ask or expect Peter to try to stop her.
“If it’s any consolation,” Joe said, “She’ll have a helluva time getting back to the island without assistance. No car, no money, no helo ride.”
“No money?” Dane asked.
“You bring any with you?”
“Vendi gave me some cash before we left.”
“Does Shana have any of it?”
Dane shook his head. Somehow the thought of leaving her helpless was not comforting. He knew she would see it as a challenge to overcome rather than allow herself to be defeated. It would merely raise the bar on the level of difficulty, not make it impossible for her to get to Martha’s Vineyard.
“No, but damn. She’ll just borrow money from Madeline or any number of people she knows.”
Peter shrugged, “Neither Mad or I will help her leave. I’ll counsel her to stay and be as convincing as I can, but . . .”
“It’ll buy some time. That’s it.” Dane looked at the floor, grim awareness of the situation weighing on him. “Make the funeral for first thing in the morning day after tomorrow. Thirty-six hours from now.”
“I think I can do that.”
“Then see if you and Madeline can somehow keep her here long enough to give me thirty-six hours alone on the island without her.” He raked his fingers through his hair, wondering if she would still want to marry him when this was all over. But at least she’d be alive.
“Hell, give her a bum car that breaks down on the way,” he continued, “then take your time getting to her, use your imagination—anything—”
Peter raised his hands in the air, “I get it. We’ll do our best. But Shana’s smart and resourceful. You know I can’t guarantee she won’t get there. And Dane,” he made a face, “she’s going to be mad as hell. At all of us.”
Dane smiled. “I’m used to it.”
“Shit,” Joe said. “Any way I can plead innocent?” He gave a wry smile.
Dane felt uneasy, but it was better than the almost paralyzing anxiety he’d felt earlier at the thought of Shana throwing herself directly into Whitey’s arms so she could get him.
He wasn’t sure she even realized that was exactly what Whitey wanted her to do, why he’d almost certainly taken Sassy. To entice Shana into his trap.
“Rest. You’ve been up all night. Catch a few hours’ sleep while I set things up, arrange the funeral, Cap’s press conference, the rest of it.” Peter waved his hand.
“Speak of the devil,” Dane said as he glanced at his vibrating phone then tapped the screen, putting the call on speakerphone. “Cap.”
“I checked Sassy’s house without going inside. No answer. I’m assuming there was no one in there because I found a note on the door.” He paused and Dane could feel the tension. When he spoke again, there was an edge to his voice. “It’s addressed to Shana.”