Chapter 6
“Wait.” Daisy pulled back suddenly. “I need to talk to my boss.”
“Why?”
“Because we were all supposed to go to the airport together in the morning.”
“Text him tomorrow.”
Jordan felt her resistance building. Knew she was about to start fighting with him again.
Inside, he sighed.
Life would be so much easier if people simply obeyed orders.
Unfortunately, Daisy wasn’t in the Army or the FBI.
She was a smart, independent woman, and he needed to remember that and not treat her like a suspect, or the enemy, or an underling.
When he’d believed she was someone sent to seduce information out of him or kill him, he hadn’t listened to her, assuming the words coming out of her mouth were lies.
He hadn’t respected her.
He needed to respect her now.
Even if she never changed her opinion of him, he needed to do better. Dragging her around and forcing her to do what he said wasn’t going to work this time.
He stopped and turned so abruptly she bumped into him, and he had to catch her against him so she didn’t fall down the stairs. He hated how much he enjoyed the contact. He had no right.
They were almost eye-to-eye.
He leaned forward and kept his voice low so only she could hear him.
“I want to get us out of here to somewhere safer, somewhere that no-one else knows about. We have to play this as if people are watching us constantly because they could be.” He ran a gentle hand through her damp, silky hair.
Hooked a strand behind her ear. “And we have to sell the fantasy, however difficult this might be for you, that we are completely into one another. That we are in love or lust or whatever you want it to be. To the point there’s no way you’d be flirting on the beach with another guy because you have me and I’m more than enough for any woman. ”
Her mouth opened on a silent gasp.
“We cannot have them suspecting that what happened earlier in your room was theater.” He pressed his finger to her bottom lip as she started to tremble. Leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss on her lips, resisted the urge to take it deeper, to hold her closer.
There were limits to this charade.
“They might not see us leaving here tonight, but if they do, if they try to follow us, if they separate us or try to question us, we need to act as if we’re in love and stick to the story.
No deviations. No variation. Once we get out of the country, then we can try to figure out what went down with Tremblay. ”
He stared into her eyes and watched her pale lashes sweep over the velvety blue, cloaking her thoughts and her feelings.
“They’re not going to want to cause an international incident by detaining a senior FBI agent with zero cause or evidence. Sure, they might speculate I was involved, but they’ve got nothing on me because I never even spoke to the man. You, however…”
Her eyes met his, pupils widening as the implications finally sank in.
She was the one at risk.
She was the one with everything to lose. She was the one they’d put in a jail cell without worrying about how it might look to the US government. Because as far as almost anyone else was concerned, except him and the actual killer, she was the last person to see Tremblay alive.
She could have met the Frenchman in his room. She could have pushed him over the railing.
She nodded then and surprised the hell out of him by leaning forward, gripping the sides of his face, and kissing him. Not a chaste kiss either, but one that had hunger rising and lust churning in his blood.
She pulled back, smiled as she murmured, “I’m still not forgiving you, but I understand better now. I am grateful for the assist. Thank you.”
His heart gave a wild stumble. “Let’s go.”
They went down a level from the lobby to the parking garage. The white Toyota he’d rented from the airport was parked nearby. He pulled her closer to whisper in her ear. “Stay here for a moment. Let me check the vehicle before we get in.”
Her brow furrowed, but she waited with the baggage near the door.
He slid all the way under the chassis, the concrete floor scraping his back.
He ran his cell phone light over the engine and exhaust system—making sure Konrad Bocharov, merchant of death, hadn’t already known Jordan was at this hotel and planned a surprise.
Nothing appeared out of place. No explosives or wires were visible. He wriggled out and checked the wheel wells and fenders for trackers. He popped the trunk, went over and helped Daisy with the luggage, which he stowed.
They both climbed in.
She went to lower the window.
“Leave it up.” He softened his tone. “Windows are tinted.”
He felt her intent gaze on his face as he drove out of the garage and onto the highway.
She turned in her seat to face him. “What’s the plan?”
“Drive around a little and look for a tail. We need to get to somewhere we won’t be followed.”
“A bit tricky as we are driving a rental car with a beacon in it.” Her tone was upbeat, but her eyes were worried.
He called Cisco, and this time the FBI geek answered. “How do I disable the GPS system in my rental car?”
Cisco groaned. “What did you do now?”
“Nothing.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t need to disable the tracker. Do you have that signal blocker that Regan gave you?”
“Yeah.” It was in his pocket. “That’ll work?”
“As long as it’s on, sure, but you won’t be able to use your cell at the same time. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“No. I need you to download the hotel security feed going back to the beginning of the week. Actually, make it a full seven days. As soon as possible.” Before anyone deletes it.
More moaning. “Which camera?”
He flicked a glance at Daisy. “All of them.”
Cisco’s voice grew sharper. “Did something happen? Is Daisy okay?”
“Is that Florence from TacOps?”
Of course, the woman could hear both sides of the conversation and recognized the agent she’d recently met at Quantico.
“She’s fine,” he told Cisco. But Daisy’s skin was pale and eyes wider than normal. “A little shook.”
Daisy hugged herself. “A lot shook.”
“What happened?” Cisco asked.
“I’m hoping you can fill in a few blanks and help me figure it out. Pay particular attention to any bald men you see in the footage.”
“Bald men?” She snorted.
“Yeah. It’s important. I need to call Ackers.”
“Uh-oh.”
Jordan wasn’t looking forward to it either. He checked his mirrors for anyone following. Changed lanes. “Just get that footage downloaded, can you? I know it’s late, but someone turned off the cameras for a portion of the evening during which a French guy fell out of a window.”
“Fell?”
“I’m guessing he had help.”
“From a bald guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit. We’re going to find somewhere to spend the night and get flights out in the morning without authorities detaining Daisy.”
“Why would they?”
“He was chatting her up earlier before they both headed to their rooms. Someone might suggest she went to his room first and with no footage…” The potential to get caught in his own lies kept nagging at him.
“Once you’ve downloaded the footage”—hopefully without the Mexican cops knowing—“take a look at the feeds for the south stairwell and the fifth floor. Between nine and ten local time.” He shot Daisy a look.
“And the corridor on the south side of the main banquet room. And the bar. And anything that covers outside that corridor heading to the beach. I’m officially Daisy’s alibi for the time of Tremblay’s death.
” He explained the situation. “I need to make sure the cops don’t find evidence that contradicts our story that we were together. ”
He needed to know why the man he believed was Konrad Bocharov had been at that hotel and why he’d killed the professor. What secrets did the Frenchman have?
Could Francois have been selling nuclear material or plans to the arms dealer?
Possible.
But his attempted seduction of Daisy hadn’t seemed staged, and why would he do that if he’d already agreed to meet with the arms dealer?
Jordan took a turn off the highway and headed down to the old part of the city—founded by the Spanish in 1519.
“Okay, okay,” Cisco said. “I’m looking now, and the hotel cameras all go dark at 9:07 p.m. Found you just prior to that—chatting up a hot brunette at the bar.”
“Hey, she was chatting me up.”
Daisy rolled her eyes in his peripheral vision.
“You should be in the clear.”
Then why was he freaking out?
He was overreacting. There was no reason to think the authorities would suspect Daisy when she had a solid alibi. But inside he knew he wasn’t overreacting. Not if he’d actually seen a Russian arms dealer responsible for countless atrocities, not least the murder of Jordan’s entire family.
But had he?
Or had his imagination shown him things he wanted to see? Because as much as he wanted Bocharov dead, he wanted to kill him more.
“Can you run the footage through facial recognition software?”
“All of it?”
“Yeah. All of it.”
“Jeez, Krychek, Regan’s gonna have words to say about this.”
“Regan always has words, but I’d rather we keep this between you and me to start with. It’s important.”
“Okay, okay.”
“I owe you one.”
“Considering I’m about to have a sleepless night, you owe me many.”
“Appreciate it.” He hung up then fished his personal keys out of his pocket and switched on the jammer on the fob.
Daisy crossed her arms. “You know she has a crush on you, right?”
“What, Cisco? No way.” The idea was ridiculous. He was pretty sure she was gay. “You’re imagining things.”
“Yeah, sex on the brain. That’s me.” The fire that flashed through her eyes was multifaceted. Regret, embarrassment, sadness, anger, and…something else.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Tears suddenly glittered in her eyes. “If I’d done something differently—”
“Like gone to his room?”
“He offered.”
“I bet he did.” Heat poured off Jordan’s skin as he ground his teeth together.
“I wasn’t attracted to him. Otherwise, I might have said yes.”
“And then you’d probably be dead too.”
The words were sharp, but the fact she’d come so close to such evil when he was supposed to be protecting her was humbling and terrifying. How would he ever have faced Kurt again?
Yeah, that’s why his jaws were fused together and white-hot anger seared his brain. Because of Kurt.
Images flashed through his brain of Daisy bloody and naked on white sheets. Nausea rolled through him.
Maybe he should visit the department shrink the way his boss kept insisting.
He was used to dealing with danger and high stress situations, but this felt different.
Maybe it was the ever-present guilt for how he treated Daisy in the past. Maybe it was the reality that he knew what Konrad was capable of.
He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the same shit-brown Buick tailing them as had followed him back on the highway.
He took a left down a side street, then another.
Pulling a surveillance detection move past graffiti-scrawled one-and-two story homes and businesses, over cracked and broken pavement. The Buick followed.
“We have company.”
Daisy twisted around in her seat. “The cops? Does that mean they genuinely believe I had a hand in Francois’s death?”
“I don’t think it’s the cops.”
Daisy’s face twisted in fear. “Who then?”
Respecting her meant telling her the truth when he could. “Maybe the same people who killed Tremblay.”
“Who do you think it was?”
The fear in her eyes pissed him off. He hated that Tremblay had involved her in this. He hated that he hadn’t kept her safe even though that was the whole reason he was in Mexico. He hated Konrad Bocharov with every cell in his body.
His fingers clenched around the steering wheel. “I can’t tell you who I think it was because I don’t know for sure, and if I am correct, it would be a matter of National Security.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Daisy’s irreverent response made him want to laugh for the first time since he’d seen her on the beach earlier.
The shit-brown car followed, and Jordan spotted another vehicle behind the first. But this didn’t look like the slick operation the Russian usually led. This looked like local trouble.
Fucking Konrad.
He’d known Jordan would split from the hotel, and he’d probably contacted a few local gang members or friendly cartel contacts about the fact there was an active-duty FBI agent likely roaming the city, unarmed.
Hopefully, Konrad didn’t know about Daisy. The Russian could never know she was with him.
“Get down where they can’t see your face.”
Bullets from an automatic weapon shattered the relative peace of the night but thankfully missed their vehicle.
Daisy put her hands over her head and hugged her knees with her face.
Jordan took another turn, aiming back for the highway. He needed to lose these motherfuckers, switch vehicles, and get the hell out of the city.
It cemented in his mind that the Russian must be Konrad Bocharov. Otherwise, how would they have identified Jordan as the man who’d followed him leaving the hotel after the Frenchman’s death? Konrad may have changed his face, but the arms dealer hadn’t changed his ways.
Jordan pressed his foot to the accelerator and sped away. A car appeared at the end of a long road, and a man poked a sub machine gun out the window. Jordan jerked left, down a narrow side road before the assailant could open fire. Maybe they’d get lucky and he’d kill his buddies instead.
“I’m scared.”
Because she wasn’t stupid, and this wasn’t some Hollywood movie.
“Keep your head down.” They were out of sight now, and he took another turn. He spotted a small, dilapidated hotel up ahead with underground parking. He whipped inside. No obvious surveillance camera.
“Out. Quickly.”
She scrambled out of the seat, and he grabbed their luggage.
He had items he didn’t want to end up in the hands of potential enemies.
He jogged between a bunch of parked vehicles and tried doors along the way.
He found an unlocked, dented burgundy Toyota Avalon that had seen better days.
He popped the trunk then locked the doors.
Thankfully, the trunk was empty except for an old, dirty blanket.
He pulled it out. “Get in.”
Daisy’s eyes went huge, but she didn’t argue. She scrambled inside and pressed herself tight against the back of the seats.
He slotted the luggage in first and then maneuvered himself over it and next to Daisy. There wasn’t a lot of room. He spread the dirty blanket over their feet and twisted and pulled the trunk lid shut, locking them into darkness.
Just before the lock clicked, he heard the low vibration of an engine.
They were out of time.