Lost in Her (20 page)

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Authors: Sandra Owens

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Lost in Her
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Trusting her instincts, she decided to talk to him, see if he had an opinion about what was going on. “Hey,” she said, catching up with him.

“Hi.” He kept on walking.

That was Gary, no interest in friendly conversations. “Listen, can I talk to you in confidence? I mean . . . what I mean is, I don’t want you repeating anything to David.”

“Why not?” They reached the Cessna, and he finally stopped.

“My engine shut down again when I was coming in for a landing. Lucky me, I was able to still land, easy peasy. Somebody’s messing with my plane, Gary.”

Troubled eyes met hers. “I know. I’ll take a look at your engine, see what was done to it this time.”

“I’d appreciate it. Thing is, I had intended to practice, but changed my mind. If I’d been out over the gulf, I would’ve never made it back.”

Gary was whip thin, in his early forties, and gay, something he’d never tied to hide. He had been in a relationship with the same man for twelve years, and as far as she knew, he considered his life perfect. His boyfriend and his planes were all he cared about. It was one reason she trusted him. He had no motive to harm her, but even less so the Citabria.

“You think I’m messing with you?” His gaze swept over her plane. “I’d never do anything to hurt that beauty.”

Charlie almost laughed. Yeah, screw her; just don’t touch any of the aircraft under his care. “I know, and that’s why I know I can trust you. Have you seen anyone near her, messing with her?”

He shifted his weight to his right foot. “No, and I’ve been keeping an eye out since all this shit started.”

Although she was now positive she could strike him from her list of suspects, she still hadn’t learned anything helpful. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I really didn’t want to think it might be you or David,” she said, watching his reaction closely.

A loose pebble seemed to catch his attention and he toed it toward him, then picked it up and put it in his pocket. Give the man a gold star for not giving anything away.

“He had a crush on you for a while there. Don’t know if he still does.”

He walked away, heading for her plane. Charlie stared after him. Had he meant to imply anything by that? She needed to talk to someone who could help her sort through everything. Since Ryan wasn’t available, she dug her cell phone from her pocket and called Maria.

“Hi, it’s Charlie,” she said when Maria answered.

“Oh, I’m glad to hear from you. You doing okay?”

No, she wasn’t. Someone was trying to kill her, and she missed Ryan, both things equal in her mind. Okay, maybe the killing part took first place, but she sure missed her boyfriend. “Yeah, I am,” she lied. “Listen, I was wondering if you might have some time in the next few days. I need to work some things out in my mind, and I could use—”

“Drinks. In two hours?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

“Great. My house. In fact, since both our men are gone, why don’t you spend the night, then I won’t have to worry about you driving home. We’ll order a pizza and consume vast quantities of wine. If you bring a bathing suit, we can do all that while we float aimlessly in my pool.”

“Sure, I’d love that.” Charlie swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d been okay with depending on no one but herself for so long, but since Ryan had walked into her life, it seemed things were changing.

“See you soon,” Maria said, then clicked off.

Since she didn’t want to talk to David until she had a chance to work things out in her mind, Charlie headed for her Corvette. In a hurry to be gone before anyone stopped her, she jogged past several cars until she came to hers. As she pulled the door closed, she heard David calling to her. Pretending she hadn’t heard him, she jammed her key into the ignition and backed out of the space, then took off.

When she reached Ryan’s, she scooped up Mr. Bunny and held him to her. Even though he was a living, breathing, warm thing, he didn’t come close to her need to be held in Ryan’s arms.

After getting her bunny fix, she set him down and headed for the shower. “You coming?”

She glanced over her shoulder to see him sitting expectantly in front of the door. The rabbit was going to make her cry if he didn’t stop that. Returning to the living room, she picked him up and carried him with her to the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“There you go,” she said, setting him down on Ryan’s pillow. When she’d agreed to stay over at Maria’s she’d forgotten about Mr. Bunny. Unable to bear the thought of leaving him alone all night, she made a quick call, relieved when Maria said to bring him with her.

“You just got invited to a slumber party,” she told him. “Whadda you think about that?” After a quick shower, she decided she had time to fold the load of clothes she had washed that morning. Most were hers, but there were a few of Ryan’s. It seemed a personal thing to be folding his T-shirts and boxers, but she couldn’t resist rubbing one of the soft shirts over her cheek. It no longer smelled of him since being washed, and she wished she had thought to keep one out.

Mr. Bunny hopped over and sniffed at the folded pile of clothes as if he knew they belonged to Ryan. She pushed his nose away. “You’re gonna get fur on them.” Although she felt like she was snooping, she opened several of his drawers before she found the one for his boxers. The one above it held T-shirts, and as she started to put them away, she spied the edge of a frame and pulled it out.

It was the picture of Ryan and his wife.
Kathleen.
It was a pretty name, a feminine one, unlike Charlie. It really was time to stop trying to be one of the guys. She had proven herself hadn’t she? Charlie or Charlene, she was a good pilot, and no one could deny that. Besides, she loved the way Ryan said
Charlene
, especially when he whispered it in her ear during intimate moments.

Had he hidden the picture away so she wouldn’t see it, she wondered as she trailed her finger over the silver frame. Again, it struck her how happy they both seemed, and she felt jealous of the woman. Not that he’d once loved her, but that he held on to her memory. Would there ever be room in his heart to love another woman? Tucking the photo back under his shirts, she closed the drawer.

She scooped up the rabbit. “Let’s go
par-tay
, Mr. Bunny.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

A
six-foot-tall bloc
k wall circled the target house, with no bushes around the dwelling to provide cover. Ryan held the nightscope to his eye, focusing on the guards. “Dumb asses. They’re standing together outside the front door, having a smoke break. You’re clear to go over,” he whispered into the thin wire inches from his mouth.

Jake responded with a snort. “I was hoping for a challenge.”

Swinging the scope to the back wall, Ryan watched his teammate’s head pop up, then his body appear as he nimbly swung his legs over, and then dropped to the ground. Jake ducked low and ran to the back corner of the house.

“Red rover, red rover, come on over.”

“What are we, in grade school?” After one last check to make sure the guards were still more interested in their cigarettes than their surroundings, Ryan tucked the scope in his pocket, then made his way to the spot where Jake had gone over.

Back at K2, when they were training for this moment, there was—as far as Ryan could tell—a duplicate of this wall down to the last brick. Having spent most of the week climbing the thing, practicing the most efficient way to get from one side to the other, his respect topped the charts for Kincaid and his boss’s obsession with intel and training.

Once over, he headed to the opposite corner of the house from Jake, his silencer already in one hand, the Taser in the other. The husband and wife slept in the back bedroom, and he slipped down the side of the house to the first window, where he gave prearranged taps on the glass. Tap, tap, tap. Tap. Tap, tap.
We’re here.

“Let’s do this,” he said into the mike.

“Roger.”

He made his way to the front corner of the house, opposite to where he knew Jake had stationed himself. Now all they had to do was wait, and hope the idiot guards soon got back to their duty of actually walking the perimeter of the building. Five minutes later both guards laughed, something was said in Russian, and then the crunch of footsteps on gravel sounded.

Bringing up the Taser, he grinned. Two lazy guards were about to be taught a lesson. A shadow of the man’s body caused by the porch light preceded him, and Ryan rolled his eyes. No one on his team would ever make that kind of mistake.
You’re just making this too easy, dude.

At the moment he calculated the man to turn the corner, he pulled the trigger on the Taser.

“Oomph.”

That was the only sound the man made as his legs gave way. Ryan caught the guard’s twitching body and eased him to the ground. Quickly removing one of the syringes, he stuck the needle into the man’s jugular, where the M9 should take effect immediately, which it did. Removing the Taser’s electrodes, he jogged to the other side of the house to subdue Jake’s man. Once the two guards were knocked out, they hog-tied both of them, then dragged them to the front door. It had taken less than three minutes. Now to get the family out of Russia.

Jake thumped his fist on the door, using the same signal as Ryan had on the window. The door cracked open and a man’s face peered out.

“Freedom awaits you, my friend,” Jake said, the words also prearranged.

The go-between was the daughter’s doctor. He had been the one to make overtures to the American government on behalf of the Akulovs, and had carried messages back and forth once the Americans agreed to come for the family. Could he be trusted? It seemed so, but there was always the possibility he had set them up. Because he knew when they would arrive at the house, both Ryan and Jake wanted to be gone as soon as possible.

Once the code words were given, Akulov opened the door. Ryan grabbed the feet of the first guard, and with Jake at the man’s head, they carried him inside, following the Russian man down a hallway to a broom closet. The process was repeated with the second guard.

Jake took a dead bolt, some screws, and a small drill from a pocket of his cargo pants and installed the lock on the outside of the door. When the men did wake up, they would have to bust their way out.

Mr. Akulov nodded as if reassured, then stuck out his hand. “Demetri Akulov. How do I thank you for saving my daughter’s life?” he said with a heavy Russian accent.

“Just doing our job, man, just doing our job,” Jake replied, exchanging handshakes.

That was true, but Ryan knew his friend, and picked up on the catch in his voice. “We need to go, Mr. Akulov. Where’s your wife and daughter?” And the damn dog.

When the man opened the door to a bedroom, the dog announced his location with a series of yaps as he ran toward them. The white bundle of fur bounced like a windup toy as he circled them, barking his little head off.

“Who let the dog out?” Ryan muttered as he dance-stepped away from the nipping teeth.

“Put him under,” Jake said, then walked into the room.

When Ryan pulled a syringe from the pouch at his waist, Mr. Akulov grabbed the dog and stepped back. “Not kill him, please. Would break Sasha’s heart.”

“I’m not going to kill your daughter’s pet. This is just something to make him go to sleep for a little while, I promise,” he said, looking the man in the eyes, letting him see the truth in them. The man nodded as he held out the dog, allowing Ryan to give the animal the shot, then there was blessed quiet when the dog conked out.

“Doc, I think you better come here.”

He didn’t like the tone of Jake’s voice. “What is it?” he asked, entering the room, stilling at the sight of a hugely pregnant woman. No way was she only seven months. “How many months?” he demanded, turning on Akulov, who had followed him in. “When is this baby due?”

The man had the good grace to appear abashed. “Baby come in two weeks. If I tell your government that, they not have send you.”

Perhaps, perhaps not. If the man had information they badly wanted, they probably would have sent someone. It wouldn’t have been them, though, because Kincaid would have refused if he’d known. Ryan knelt in front of the woman. “Do you speak English?”

She looked at her husband, who nodded. Did she need permission to speak? Ryan tried to imagine Maria or Charlie asking permission to talk. Yeah, that would happen maybe never.

“I,” she pointed to herself, “one day be American.”

That was said with pride, causing Ryan to smile. “And you will be. I need to touch your stomach.” He held up a hand. “May I touch your baby?”

Akulov said something, translating Ryan’s words, he assumed. She pushed her stomach out to him. “I need you to stand up.” He took her hands and pulled. “She’s dropped,” he said to Jake. “If we’re lucky, she has another day or two before the baby decides to come.”

“Let’s just get her to Finland. After that, I don’t care when that baby decides to make an appearance.”

Ryan couldn’t agree more. He turned to the young girl, the reason Akulov had set everything in motion. She was a beautiful child—blonde, blue-eyed like her father, and her skin as pale as an albino. If he had to guess, she needed that heart transplant sooner rather than later.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled a small, white stuffed poodle toy from the left pocket of his cargo pants. When he handed it to her, she giggled as she grabbed the toy and hugged it to her chest.

“Time to go,” Jake said.

Akulov knelt and pulled two duffel bags from under the bed. When Jake glared at them, the Russian man glared back. “They say we bring two, yes?” He passed the sleeping poodle to Ryan, then thrust the bags at Jake, who took them with a resigned sigh. Lifting his daughter in his arms, he said something to his wife. She stood and curled her fingers around the back of his belt. “Go,” he ordered his American saviors.

“I never thought I’d miss Afghanistan, but I’m suddenly beginning to,” Jake muttered as he led them out of the house.

At the back gate, Jake set down the duffel bags. “Explain to them what happens next,” he said, then vaulted over the wall and disappeared.

“He’s going to get the car,” Ryan said, wishing the operation was done and over with. Snoring poodles, ready-to-drop-their-kid women, children who would die without a transplant, and a husband-slash-father who was worried enough about his family that he could prove to be unpredictable were not Ryan’s idea of fun.

He tucked the dog under one arm and rested the animal’s weight on his hip, freeing his other hand so he could palm the gun stuck into the waist at the back of his pants. “Do you have a key for that?” he asked, eyeing the lock, figuring he would have to either shoot it off or hoist an about-ready-to-deliver woman over a six-foot-high wall.

“Yes. Yes. I do.” Akulov pulled a key from his pocket and slid it into the lock.

Ryan stepped forward, blocking the opening. “Stay behind the wall until the car pulls up, then as fast as the three of you are able, get inside the backseat. Okay?”

Akulov gave a vigorous nod, then translated the instructions to his wife and daughter. The child impressed Ryan. Other than giving her dog worried looks, she hadn’t complained or cried.

“Stay where you are until I tell you to move.” He handed the dog to Akulov, then stepped past the gate and surveyed the street from left to right. All seemed quiet. Strangely, he didn’t like the quiet. Give him rocket-propelled grenades and heavy-caliber mortars aimed at his head any day over this eerie silence. At least then he knew where the enemy was.

The sound of an approaching engine had him slipping back behind the wall, his gun at the ready. The Akulovs squeezed together so close behind him that he could feel their body heat on his back. The car came up the street, then stopped in front of the gate.

“Go, go, go,” Ryan said after he confirmed it was Jake in the Volga. When they hesitated, he picked up the girl and carried her to the car, setting her on the backseat. The parents followed and once they were inside, he went back and grabbed their two bags, tossed them on the floor at Akulov’s feet, then closed the door. He ran around to the passenger side, jumping into the car.

“Let’s haul ass,” Jake said, doing just that.

Ignoring the conversation in Russian going on between the family, Ryan reached into the backpack at his feet and pulled out the satellite phone. “We have them,” he said when Kincaid answered.

“Any trouble?” the boss asked.

“Piece of cake. Well, unless the stork decides to land before we make it back to Finland. Wife’s due in two weeks, maybe sooner. Looks like the baby’s dropped.”

“Two weeks? We were told she was only seven months.”

“The family lied about that. They were afraid if we knew how close she was, we wouldn’t come for them.”

“We wouldn’t have.”

“Too late now. I’m about to call Dog, tell him to pick us up in an hour.”

“Car coming up behind us,” Jake said.

“It’s probably nothing, boss, but there’s a car behind us. Better go.”

“Call back when you can.”

Ryan returned the phone to the backpack, then turned to watch the oncoming car. It seemed to be going fast, and the hair on the back of his neck itched. They wouldn’t run; that would just give them away. Hopefully, it was someone out for a late night, in a hurry to get home. When it was only a few yards from them, blue lights mounted on the roof flashed.

“Shit,” Jake said.

Taking a rabbit to a slumber party was like toting around a baby. Charlie set the carrier with Mr. Bunny inside on Ryan’s living room floor, then returned to her car to get his litter box and the bag of rabbit food. He’d had a great time playing with Maria’s cat. The two animals had been the evening’s entertainment, and the more wine she and Maria drank, the harder they had laughed at the silly creatures’ antics. Who knew a cat and a rabbit would decide they were best friends?

If it hadn’t been for the bit of news Maria had given her, it would have been the perfect girl time, something she hadn’t had since isolating herself after Shannon’s death. As soon as Maria had told her that three years earlier, a woman had filed a complaint and taken out a restraining order against David Haydon, he had moved to number one on Charlie’s list.

She had wanted to get in her car and go straight to his house to confront him, but Maria had sensibly convinced her that wasn’t a good idea. “Besides, before we do anything about this, I want to dig deeper, see if there’s more to find on him,” she’d said.

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