Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“You get enough sleep?” Liam pulled a long-sleeved white shirt over his head to pair with his dark denim jeans.
He moved around the bed to where she was sitting upright, holding the comforter to her chest as if sunlight slipping through the cracks in the blinds would turn her to dust. Of course, daylight was never the friendliest to a naked body.
“I slept great. You?”
“I got a few hours, but I had to hop on a call with the team earlier.”
“Oh?” she asked as he reached out for her hand.
She let go of the bedding and stood, slipping her hand into his, not caring he could see her naked in what felt like a spotlight.
He tipped his head to the side and eyed her slowly as if calculating geometry in his head again. Maybe he was contemplating a new move to try?
“They, uh, said . . .” He blinked and shifted his focus to her face. “Sorry. Distracted.” He tightened his grasp of her hand and pulled her against him so her palms went to his chest.
“Thankfully I have no intention of leaving the room like this, so your focus can remain sharp once we’re outside.”
His free hand skated down the side of her body and to her ass cheek. “Yeah, this ass—it’s mine. So that’d be a negative on the nudity outside of—”
“Yours?” A light laugh helped warm her exposed body.
He captured her bottom lip with his teeth and sucked at it, never letting go of his firm grasp of her. “You object?”
She allowed a tiny and purposeful moan to slip from her mouth while their bodies were pinned to one another. How was she already itching to have sex again when she was so sore? “So, um, what’d your team say again?”
He edged back a touch and brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Harper’s contact will be on overwatch keeping an eye on what goes down when the Spanish authorities arrive at Port Adra Tuesday night.”
“That’s something. Will it help take down Carballo somehow?”
He released his hold of her. “It depends on the cargo.”
“Well, let’s hope so. That guy doesn’t deserve to be living and breathing. He’s killed so many people.” She sidestepped him to grab a tee from the chair by the window, feeling the need to be clothed when discussing a mass murderer.
“I promise we’ll get him in one way or another,” he said as she pulled on her shirt.
And she believed him, especially after he’d admitted last night he basically had a burning desire to rid the world of evil.
She glanced at her hand, remembering the blood she’d spilled the other night. There was no tremble. Not even a slight shake at the memory.
She reached for a pair of white PJ shorts that had never actually made it on last night. “Why don’t I feel so bad about what I did to that Lamond guy anymore? How am I moving on so fast?”
He stood in front of her again, tossed the shorts aside, and gathered her hands inside his larger ones. “We all deal with death in our own way. I’ll always remember my first kill, but I don’t talk about it with anyone outside my team.”
“Do you think you should’ve?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You can talk to me, you know.”
“And I can be a good listener, too, if you decide you really haven’t moved on from what happened like you think.”
“Thank you.” She went for the chain around her neck and grew frantic at its absence.
“It’s on the dresser,” he said. “Found it on the floor earlier. I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you.”
“Thank you.” She clasped her necklace. “What’s our cover story today with Maria? We can’t tell her we’re Heidi and Decker.”
“Reporters for the Washington Post. We’ll tell her we’re covering the story about Elaina’s abduction.”
“You think she’ll talk to us?” She peered at him. The light pouring through the partially open blinds bathed him in a heavenly type of glow—he looked like an angel. Like a hero or savior. Of course, he already met that description in her book.
“Let’s hope so. I’ve been known to be convincing when I have to be.” He rolled his lips inward and wet them. “You sure you want to come with me?”
“Why, you okay leaving me alone and out of your sight?” Before he could respond, she added, “I’ll be fine. I’ll be with you.”
His lips parted as if he were going to speak, but then his cell began ringing.
“More news?” she asked as he lifted his phone from his pocket and checked the screen.
“Hopefully. It’s Jessica.”
She moved past him and opened the blinds all the way to allow even more light into the room.
“Hey,” Liam answered once he placed Jessica on speaker.
“The CIA managed to get our contract killing duo to talk with a little persuasion,” Jessica said. “They provided a phone number for our mystery buyer.”
Finally. Her hand landed on her chest, her heartbeat growing more intense as she waited for Jessica to continue.
“We tracked the number to one of those old-fashioned phone booths in London, which, as far as we know, is more of a piece of history than actually used.”
“The buyer’s in London?” Emily turned to look at Liam.
“Not necessarily. The line still works, but we were rerouted to another number . . . but it’d been disabled.”
“Maybe the couple lied,” he said.
“No, I don’t think so. I checked the history of that phone booth, and there’ve been no incoming calls to it in three years—not until this past week, at least. It’s been ringing off the hook.”
“Like hitmen who want a chance at the bounty,” Liam said. “But now the line’s no longer working. You think they changed the number?”
“No,” she replied. “The CIA picked up chatter the buyer placed the bounty on hold until further notice.”
“Way to bury the lead,” Liam grumbled.
“Why would the bounty be placed on hold? The buyer have a change of heart?” Emily asked.
“Unless someone offered the buyer compelling evidence they have Elaina already,” Liam said.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Jessica stated. “Lamond texted the video we sent him of Elaina before Jared shot him. It was to an untraceable burner phone, but if we assume Lamond texted the video to Patty, and she then forwarded the evidence to the buyer—”
“The buyer may not know Patty’s in custody.” Emily’s brow pinched as she put the pieces together. “We need to get Patty to talk.”
“She’s not bending, but keep your fingers crossed,” Jessica said. “And good luck with Maria. Call me after.”
“Copy that.” Liam ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.
“How do you handle all of this?” She sat on the bed, her legs painful and numb like the last time she’d attempted a spin class.
“The cartel. Contract killers. And some mystery buyer. It’s enough to make a juror’s head spin if I were to ever bring all of this to the courtroom.
But you guys talk like you’re deciding what to have for dinner. ”
“I’ve been doing this for a long time.” He sat next to her and reached for her hand. “And I think it’s safe to assume this won’t end in a courtroom.”
“You can drop the Spanish.” Maria didn’t bother to glance Emily’s way as she filled her computer bag with folders inside the lecture hall.
Emily shot a quick look at Liam, and he lifted his shoulders. “How’d you know?” She stood on the other side of the podium, waiting for Maria to look at her.
“Your accent. Your Spanish is good, but you’re not a native.” Maria slung the strap of her work bag over her shoulder and circled the podium, her hazel eyes moving to Emily’s outstretched hand.
“We work for the Washington Post.” Emily shook her hand. “Could we have a minute of your time?”
“You must be here about Elaina,” she replied, her voice so matter-of-fact she wondered if they were even talking to the right woman. “I saw on the news Americans took her.”
“No, ma’am, that’s a rumor,” Liam began, “but we want to help find her.” He’d traded in his accent for an American one. A touch Southern, too.
“How can two writers find a kidnapped girl?” She flicked a finger and pointed to the side exit. “If you want to talk, you must walk.”
She matched Liam’s puzzled look before they trailed after Maria out the exit and into the hall.
“We’re hoping to ask you a few questions about what happened if that’d be okay.” Emily walked fast, trying to keep up as Maria’s heels clicked along the wood floors in the now-empty hallway.
“In my office then,” she said with a sigh.
She couldn’t wrap her head around the woman’s attitude. Maria had no clue Elaina was safe, and so . . . was she somehow part of the kidnapping?
“I’m not coldhearted,” she said once they were alone in her office.
“I do care. I know what you’re thinking.
” Maria motioned for them to sit in the blue velvet chairs before her desk.
“But after losing my best friend, and now her daughter, I feel a bit numb.” She sat at her desk.
“Numbness is the only way I can handle what has happened to Elaina—at what I did to cause her kidnapping.”
Emily straightened in the chair. “What?” She looked over at Liam, and the familiar angry tic in his jaw was there.
“What do you mean?” Did you help Carballo abduct Elaina?
Maria wrung her hands together and rested them atop the desk. Her hazel eyes flashed Emily’s way before swinging toward Liam. “I didn’t report what happened to the police, and I probably should have. Elaina might be okay.”
“Report what?” Liam stood. His tall, muscular frame dominating the small office as he eyed Maria.
Maria leaned back in her chair, her hands going to her lap.
Intimidation? Check.
“I received a call from some man almost three weeks ago, and he offered me a half a million dollars to take Elaina to the airport and put her on a plane.”
“Who? Where?” Emily couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“He didn’t specify, but I said no. The man even upped his price to one million.
Who offers a person a million dollars for a child?
” She kept her eyes downcast. “They threatened to kill my son if I told anyone about this—so you see, it’s my fault she’s gone.
They must’ve decided to just take her from me. ”