B008DKAYYQ EBOK (27 page)

“I’m fine,” Bailey said.

“You know what I want.”
 

Cole’s tone was so flat that Bailey shot a glance at him. She’d never seen him so angry, and yet he’d kept it all tightly bottled until he’d seen Kathleen.

The recipient of his anger gestured toward the other room. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I need some coffee. Another agent will be with us in a moment, and he’ll explain everything.”

Bailey rose slowly, conscious of every sore muscle, every protesting bruise. She felt as if she’d been through a round with a prizefighter. At least she hadn’t ripped out any stitches during the encounter in the pool. A miracle.

The kitchen was all white, from the floor, which sparkled as if it had been recently sterilized, to the cabinets, countertops and center island. The Florida theme had been continued here, with pictures of pink shells and starfish on the walls and white curtains that depicted a palm-tree-dotted beach scene on the window above the sink.

Kathleen sat at the white butcher block table for four and waited while Bailey and Cole had joined her before she looked at Bailey. “We found something in the pictures you gave us.”

“I already told her that part,” Cole said. “Why don’t you just cut to the chase?”

Kathleen’s cheeks pinkened. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“I don’t appreciate your beating around the fucking bush.”

Bailey stared at him in shock. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on here?”

Cole’s gaze swung to hers. “Something in the photos sent up a red flag, and instead of sending agents to Payne Kincaid’s to get you, Kathleen sent me.”

“I had no way of knowing that Bailey was in imminent danger,” Kathleen said.

“You had an idea,” Cole retorted. “You said there was no time and that I had to play it cool. You knew there was a chance that something was going to go down.”

“But it turned out all right,” Kathleen said. “I don’t know why you have—”

“It turned out
all right
?” Cole shoved back from the table and stood, his face going red with rage. “Bailey wasn’t breathing when I got to her. I had to do CPR to bring her back. That is not anything
close
to turning out all right.”

“Cole, I don’t know what you want me to do—”

“Do your fucking job. That’s why I came to you—”

“Excuse me.” Bailey made a timeout gesture, ignoring the flip-flopping of her stomach at how angry Cole was on her behalf. “Can we talk about the photos?”

He sat back down without a word, but then surprised her by reaching over and taking her hand. Bailey grasped his fingers in response, even more grateful for his presence.
 

Kathleen’s gaze followed the gesture, and her lips thinned into a frown.

Before anyone could say anything more, Kathleen’s cell phone rang. She sat back to pull it off her belt.

“Quinn.” She listened a moment. “Yes, send him in. Thanks.” She clicked off the phone and rose. “Agent Brett Sark of the CBP is here. I’ll let him in.”

As the agent left the room, Bailey said, “CBP? What’s that?”

“Customs and Border Protection.”

Her stomach jittered all over again. “What’s going on, Cole?”

“I think we’re about to find out.”

When Kathleen returned, a tall, thin, black man in an expensive-looking suit followed a pace behind. “Cole Goodman, Bailey Chase, this is Agent Brett Sark of the U.S. Customs and Border Protection.”

They shook hands all around, and Bailey noticed that his eyes were the lightest, prettiest brown she’d ever seen. His suit was impeccably pressed, and a pleasant scent of cologne clung to him. He carried a light blue folder that he set on the table as he gestured for them to sit.
 

After they were all seated, he flipped open the folder, and Bailey saw that it contained photographs. Sark slid the top photo and the one beneath it so that they were in front of her. “Do you recognize either of the men in these pictures?”

As soon as she saw his face, his voice clicked in her head. Dixon Ramsey.

In the first photo, Payne’s second in command and another man, who wore a black suit, sunglasses and shiny black shoes, stood among a gathering of pine trees. They were in the middle of exchanging a three-inch-thick, legal-size envelope and shaking hands at the same time. Austin had snapped the second photo just after Ramsey had turned to walk away. He was looking right at the camera.

“Bailey?” Cole said.

She realized they were waiting for her response and swallowed. “Yes, I know them both.”

“From where?” Sark asked.

“They work for Payne Kincaid. The one who looks like Secret Service oversees Payne’s security. I don’t know his name. And the bald one … his name is Dixon Ramsey. He’s Payne’s second in command. He’s also the man who attacked me. I’d heard his voice before, but I couldn’t place it.”

“And how do you know Payne Kincaid?” Sark asked.

“He was my father’s best friend.” She paused. “He’s
my
friend.” She couldn’t help sounding a bit defensive. Was Sark implying that
Payne
was somehow involved in what had happened to her?

Sark’s face remained impassive, and Bailey wondered whether the muscles in it ever moved.
 

Cole shifted. “Were these photos taken at the park, too?”

Bailey shook her head. “Austin and I spent part of the day at Payne’s before we went to the park. Austin wanted to go swimming, and Payne—” She stopped to take a calming breath. How long before she would be able to go near a swimming pool again?
 

“Has a pool,” Cole quietly finished for her, his fingers tightening around hers.
 

“Right.” She took a calming breath. “That’s where I first showed my nephew how to use the camera. I got a call on my cell, and he was all over the pool area, snapping photos. He must have gotten an angle around the side of the house that I couldn’t see from where I was. We went to the park after that.” She paused. “He likes to climb on the monkey bars.” Somehow, it helped to remember that, to remember Austin’s sweet face and infectious laugh.
 

Cole said, “So Ramsey must have followed you to the park after he saw Austin take the picture. He couldn’t tell you he wanted the photos that were taken at Kincaid’s because then you might have made a connection he didn’t want you to make. So he said he wanted the ones from the park, which he would naturally assume were on the same roll of film.”

“And it worked,” Bailey said. “We didn’t even look at the pictures taken at Payne’s.”
 

“When our guys couldn’t find anything in the photos from the park, they went over all the negatives you gave us,” Kathleen said. “This one caught their eye for obvious reasons.”

“It’s a transaction,” Cole said.
 

Bailey sat straighter, pulling her hand away from Cole. “Is Payne in some kind of danger?”

Kathleen and Sark exchanged a glance. She gave the other agent a curt nod, then looked at Cole. “This is off the record.”
 

“Fine,” Cole said.

“Seriously, Cole. If this ends up in the newspaper, a huge, federal investigation is screwed.”

“I said fine.”

Bailey was more focused on Kathleen’s words: a huge federal investigation. That involved men who worked for Payne?
 

“The federal government has known for some time,” Sark said, “that Mr. Ramsey is part of a smuggling operation that encompasses Naples, Fort Myers and Kendall Falls.”

Bailey felt her jaw drop.
 

“What kind of smuggling?” Cole asked. “Drugs?”

“Whatever anyone needs smuggled, actually,” Kathleen said. “Basically, he’s what we call a mover. If you need something transported into the United States—illegal immigrants, aborted embryos for stem-cell research, rhino horns, illegal poisonous animals, weapons—he handles all the details. For a hefty price, of course.”

“Payne ships artwork for his customers all the time,” Bailey said. “Is Ramsey using Payne’s shipments to smuggle this stuff for other people?”
 

A beat went by where no one said anything, the only sound the gulf waves outside the doors.
 

Cole sat back. “Holy shit.”
 

Bailey glanced at him, alarmed. “What? Tell me.”

Sark said, “Ramsey isn’t the top guy. Payne Kincaid is.”

Bailey gasped and shook her head. “No. Absolutely no way.”
 

Silence reigned again. Unable to sit there with three pairs of eyes watching her, she pushed back from the table and got up. Pacing to the island in the center of the kitchen, she braced her hands on it. A warm, moist breeze blew through the sliding glass doors, stirring the hair on her forehead and carrying the scent of rain.
 

This was wrong. All of this was so very wrong. Not the Payne Kincaid she knew.

“I’ve known Payne Kincaid my entire life. He’s no criminal.”

Cole got up. “Bailey—”

“I don’t understand why Ramsey is so adamant about getting these from me,” she said, gesturing at the photos on the table. “He and the security guy both work for Payne, so there would be no reason for me to think something wrong is going on here. We wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t come after me.”
 

“Thugs like him aren’t known for being the smartest people on Earth,” Sark said.
 

“Is it possible you would have shown the photos your nephew took to Kincaid?” Kathleen asked. “They
are
his first.”

Bailey’s shoulders sagged. “Oh. That’s a good point.”

“But if Kincaid and Ramsey are working together on an illegal operation, why would these photos make Kincaid suspicious?” Cole asked. “Wouldn’t the security guy be a part of it?”

“Possibly,” Sark said.

Cole’s brow furrowed in confusion. “This doesn’t make sense. You said you already knew that Ramsey works for Kincaid and what they’re doing, so the photos don’t help you nail anyone. So why are you sharing so many details if this is such a top-secret case?”

Sark’s light gaze fixed on Bailey. “We need your help.”

A terrible sense of dread drilled through the center of her stomach. “
My
help? How?”

Kathleen suddenly rose. “I’m going to make that coffee now.”

Chapter 36

The wind outside the beach house picked up, along with the sound of waves that tumbled more violently than before. Cole turned and slid the door closed with an angry thunk and latched it. Kathleen running water into the glass carafe of the coffeemaker seemed deafening in the quiet that followed.

Bailey watched as Cole leaned back against the glass door and folded his arms, his expression fixed in pissed-off mode. Lightning flashed in the distance behind him, as though the weather reflected his mood. When he met her eyes, though, his expression softened.

Sark got up and gestured at the chair Bailey had left. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

She shook her head. “I can’t imagine how I can help.”

“Please, Miss Chase. I can explain everything, and I’d prefer that you sit down.”

Cole moved toward her and gave her arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze before he settled on the chair he’d left earlier.
 

Bailey followed suit, figuring if he could sit still as ticked as he was, so could she.
 

Agent Sark resumed his seat as well. “Before Dixon Ramsey, there was James Chase.”

Bailey felt as if he’d punched her in the chest with his fist. “My
brother
?”

“Shit,” Cole said under his breath.

“Like Ramsey, your brother was Kincaid’s right-hand man,” Sark went on. “We already knew about Kincaid’s smuggling operation, but we couldn’t prove anything. He dots all his i’s, crosses every t, so trying to get anything on him that would stick was extremely difficult. After the accident that killed your father, we were prepared to let James walk on the involuntary manslaughter charge if he rolled on Kincaid. He wouldn’t do it.”

Bailey mind reeled. Everything she thought she knew about her father’s best friend was wrong. And not only was Payne Kincaid a smuggler, but he’d dragged her brother into his world. That’s how James made the money that bought the drugs—and the car—that led to their father’s tragic death. All of it—everything that had made the Chase family’s life hell for the past five years—could be traced back to Payne Kincaid.

And James. God, James. What had he been
thinking
?
 

The scent of brewing coffee began to fill the kitchen. So normal and mundane when nothing was normal or mundane.
 

When Cole slid his hand over hers again, his touch had a grounding effect.
 

Sark cleared his throat. “We need your brother’s help, Miss Chase. We need his testimony to put Kincaid and Ramsey away for a long time.”

As if the statement had opened the floodgates on her memory, Bailey remembered what James had said to her on the phone just before the attack at the pool.