Chapter 19
Nash sidled close to Lena’s side, his hand on the small of her back. If she thought he was hovering too close, she gave no indication. Which was good, because after her disappearance a few minutes ago, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.
He opened the door at the end of the hallway, and they found themselves in a large, open living area with sofas and chairs. Beyond that, a floating pier with two smaller boats and three Jet Skis. He eyed the perimeter until he located a closet that met Cassidy’s description.
“Over here,” he whispered.
Lena nodded and followed. He gripped the door handle, and the closet opened. Cassidy was right. It was unlocked.
“Watch the hallway,” he said to Lena. “I’ll look for the jewels.”
"Got it."
Suddenly, working with her felt very natural. Which was odd, kind of.
He pushed those thoughts aside and searched the closet.
The closet held at least a dozen life jackets.
Thankfully, most of them were black or pink, a couple were gray, and only one was blue with yellow stripes.
He patted the life jacket, assuming he’d feel some kind of lump, something hard through the fabric, to indicate where the jewels were.
He felt nothing. He slid his hand around again on the inside.
And he did find an unusual slit that had been carefully cut into the inside of the life jacket.
He stuck his hand through the opening and felt around.
A hollow space had been carved out in the middle of the padding of the life jacket.
Ingenious idea and the perfect size to hold the stolen jewels.
But they weren’t there.
He double-checked around the life jacket and even glanced at the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Lena asked.
“They’re not here. It looks like they might have been, though.”
“What?"
"Never mind."
He hung the life jacket back in the closet and shut the door. “Whether they were ever here or not, they’re not here now."
"But . . . Cassidy said she saw—”
“I know. Let’s get back to the party and make an excuse to leave. Make sure Cassidy sees us. She’ll meet us at the car and then you two are getting out of here.”
“What? But what about—"
"You're only here to get Cassidy. We found Cassidy. She said she’d meet us at the car. I’ll call Jason. He can get you to the airport tonight. Let me worry about the jewels. That’s my job.”
Relief tinged with sadness wavered in her soft eyes. “Okay,” she whispered.
They made their way back to the party and shuffled through the crowd. Cassidy approached them with her polished-hostess politeness, in case anyone was listening. “Would you like some champagne?”
“No, actually,” Lena said. “I’m not feeling well. Mr. Stone’s going to take me back to the house.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Cassidy, feigning concern.
“It’s okay,” said Lena. “I need to check on Nutmeg anyway. I hope you have a wonderful evening.”
Nash prayed none of the guests noticed the look Lena gave Cassidy. Intense. Pleading. Not subtle.
He whispered in Lena's ear as they stepped from the gangplank onto the pier. “Don’t walk too fast. You’re supposed to be ill.”
“Right,” she said. “To be honest, I don’t feel great. What if Emil catches on? What if—”
“Nope." He placed his hand on the small of her back. "We’re not playing what-if games right now. Just walk slowly to the car. Cassidy will be here in a couple of minutes. She seems smart. She'll figure out a way to slip away from the party.”
When they approached the SUV in a dimly lit corner of the marina's parking lot, Nash felt a fraction of relief. Lena was safe. Cassidy was on her way. No jewels yet, but he could deal with that later, after the cousins boarded their flight to Houston.
He rubbed a nonexistent smudge off the door of the SUV—his signal to Jason and Knox to keep their position in the opposite corner of the dark parking lot. Hopefully, he wouldn't need their assistance tonight.
Lena didn't reach for the door handle. Her focus riveted on Emil's yacht, then drifted. He intended to open the door for her, but he found himself watching her instead, the sea breeze catching a few loose strands of hair.
Moonlight caressed the gentle curve of her cheeks and shimmered in her eyes. The sight stole his breath. And his brain cells. Focus, Stone. This operation isn't over.
"Cassidy will be here in a minute," he said, like a totally mission-focused soldier.
Her head inclined to the view in front of them. "I can't believe all of this is happening in such a beautiful place."
He followed her gaze to the boat and the ocean beyond.
"It looks like a movie set," she said. "The palm trees wrestling with the sea breeze.
The moon dancing on the waves. That gorgeous yacht.
" A soft laugh escaped her lips. Her eyes found his.
"I wish it were a different kind of movie, though.
This . . ." She flung her hand toward the yacht.
"This is some kind of scary thriller—even more scary because I don't know if it's going to have a happy ending or not. "
Her focus returned to the yacht. Doubt about Cassidy's intentions stamped on her face.
He wanted to promise her the happiest of happy endings. But he knew better.
"I know I don't need to tell you that life isn't fair." Because, yeah, there was a chance Cassidy wasn't walking off that yacht.
He brushed her arm with his fingers, coaxing her eyes to lock on his. "But God can handle this. He can carry you through whatever happens tonight. Let him."
She leaned into his touch, jaw tight, eyes moist.
He wrapped his arms around her and spoke into the waves of her soft brown hair. "You're not alone. You never will be."
Yes, he meant their unchanging God would never leave her. But he also hoped she could count on him. Beyond tonight.
She eased back, opened her mouth—apparently changed her mind—and shut it again.
He couldn't suppress a short chuckle. "Go ahead. What were you going to say?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course." He glanced toward the yacht. Still no Cassidy.
"In the hallway when Cassidy took off, you were . . . I know I haven't known you very long. But you looked uncharacteristically angry. What was that?"
He stared at her innocent face, trying to conjure up a response. She had no idea what she was asking. What he'd felt in the hallway . . . The way his whole body had reacted in that moment . . .
He thought he'd efficiently dealt with those emotions. He thought those painful echoes were dead and buried. Like Heather.
He'd surprised himself with the anger and fear that slammed his heart into his chest when he couldn't find Lena. She was only missing for ten seconds, and he nearly lost his mind. He'd found it difficult to breathe. Then, when he saw her again, he had to fight to regulate his pulse.
Cassidy's attitude hadn't helped the situation. But it was the few seconds of tormenting flashbacks that triggered him—not Cassidy's stubbornness.
He didn't know how to explain any of that to Lena. To the tender concern staring at him.
She looked embarrassed. "I asked something personal." She tucked some flying strands behind her ear. "I didn't mean to overstep. I'm sorry. It's just . . . the way you reacted back there . . . I just want to know that you're okay."
Sincere compassion in her gaze awakened something in him—something that wanted to explain everything.
Without permission, the words tumbled out of his mouth.
"There was . . . a woman. Five years ago. We were close," he said. "And we worked together. She took a lot of risks. Too many. I tried to protect her. She wouldn't listen. She was smart, but she wanted to do everything on her own."
The memory seared his insides. Lena didn't need all the details. What did he really need to explain? He wasn't still in love with Heather. That part of his heart moved on, healed, not long after her funeral. What he couldn't stand was that he had failed her.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I think, back on the yacht, when I couldn't find you .
. . I think it triggered some memories." He cleared his throat.
"We were on a mission when she decided to go off on her own.
She was supposed to stay with me, but she saw one of the targets moving .
. . anyway, she took off. Twenty minutes later, I found her. She was dead."
Lena gasped. "Oh, Nash, I'm so sorry. That's horrible." She grabbed his hand. A tortured expression twisted on her face. He hadn't meant to scare her. That wasn't the point.
"Hey, I didn't mean for that to sound like a cautionary tale. I wasn't trying to frighten you. You asked. So I wanted to explain."
"You can't blame yourself."
He grunted. "Yes, I can."
"I'm sorry that the memories are painful." She squeezed his forearm and stepped close enough for him to smell the citrus scent of her shampoo. "But you're not alone." A smile played on her lips. "If God can carry me through all my family drama, then he can carry your pain. Let him."
"Throwing my wisdom back at me, huh?" He lifted her hand from his arm and laced his fingers through hers.
Her gaze jerked toward Emil's yacht. "They're leaving?"
"They?" He followed her gaze and watched Cassidy and Emil step into a smaller boat next to the yacht.
"Where's she going?" Lena's question was a strangled cry.
He flung open her car door. "Get in the car."
"What?"
"Get in the car. I'm going after them, but you stay here."
The small boat pulled away from the pier and headed into the black ocean. Clouds covered the moon, hindering his view of the small craft. "Stay put. I'll be right b—"
An explosion reverberated through the marina.
Followed by a fireball and flying debris.
He planted himself between Lena and the blast, but not fast enough to shield her view.
In the seconds that followed, he realized they were out of physical danger.
But Lena's guttural scream made it sound as if her body were on fire—Cassidy and Emil's boat was now fully engulfed in flames.