Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #2 (54 page)

* * *

Shaun filled the empty space between them, knowing that this time, he wouldn't pull away. This was no old memory. This was a new, here-and-now connection of two hearts that knew exactly what they wanted, despite the difficulties and danger.

Time had no meaning until the moment their lips parted, when an instant sense of loss enveloped Shaun.

Lexie drew a shaky breath. “We have terrible timing.”

Shaun threw his head back and laughed. Lexie joined in seconds later, and they giggled their lost years away until finally stopping to catch their breath. They rested their foreheads together, a small moment of peace amidst the hours of non-stop, hectic stress and danger.

Minutes ticked by, and while Shaun wished that he and Lexie could enjoy their moment of tranquility for a little while longer, the reality was that a madman still lurked about in the corners of the ship, searching for them.

“Do you think it's safe?” Lexie pulled back, searching his face for answers. “How long should we stay here?”

“I was about to ask the same thing.” Shaun tucked a loose strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering on the soft skin behind her jaw. “We're not in the clear yet, but if we just keep going the way we're going, we'll never know for sure.”

Lexie raised an eyebrow. “Are we still talking about the masked gunman?”

He shrugged. “You pick.”

They cracked another smile together, but Shaun noticed that Lexie had begun to tremble again. She'd warmed up enough to be out of immediate danger, but both of them needed medical attention to check for frostbite. “I know you're going to try and shut me down on this, but we need to get you out of here right away. I'm going to make my way upstairs and bring the medical team here to retrieve you, okay?”

“Alone? No, I'm going with you.”

“Not this time.” He touched her feet and rubbed her toes. “Can you feel that?”

Lexie bit her lip. Clearly she didn't want to tell him the truth. It was worse than he'd thought. “I can, but not well. My toes are still burning, but they don't feel cold.”

“I don't want to risk you walking. If you're injured, you'll only hurt yourself further—and on the off chance that the gunman is still searching these decks for us, you're not going to be able to run. That said, I don't think he's close, or else he would have heard us by now.”

Lexie's mouth curved into a tiny smile. “Guess we haven't been all that quiet.”

“Not exactly.” Shaun rolled up into a crouch, checking his waistband to be sure that his gun was still tucked in place. “But if I'm out there moving around, I'll be guaranteed to draw his attention away from here. We'll move you to the corner of the room with the candles. You'll have some warmth, but the light shouldn't be visible from the doorway.”

Shaun kissed the back of her hand and moved the candles to the farthest corner. He hated the idea of leaving her here alone, but she really would be safer. He'd also try to find out why the power hadn't been restored yet, and possibly get the lights turned on. Medical could bring a stretcher down and cart her off to someplace warm.

“What about you?” Lexie's nervous smile intensified with worry, and she peeked over her shoulder at the empty doorway. “You were outside just as long as me, and I had a blanket. You can't be feeling great, either.”

“I'm more accustomed to this kind of thing. I'll be all right.”

Shaun found a few pillows in the cupboard where he'd found the candles, and tucked one behind her head so she could remain upright and comfortable. Several others he tucked around her back and sides.

“I'll go as quickly as I can,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Keep quiet and I'll be back in a jiff. If you hear anything out there, whatever it is,
don't come out.
Stay here. I will come back for you.”

Lexie nodded, exhaustion plain on her face. What had he been thinking, dragging her into this? She'd had enough to deal with from that initial attack on the parking deck, and yet he'd gone and pulled her the rest of the way into this fight—a fight that wasn't hers and shouldn't be hers. Yet, if he hadn't, they might not have spent all these hours together, and he never would have learned what a resilient and tender heart she possessed.

With a prayer that God would see him through this one way or the other, Shaun drew his gun, peeked around the corner and looked back at Lexie, sitting peacefully on the floor.

“I'll be just a few minutes,” he said, mustering a weak smile.

“You'd better,” she said, a teasing sparkle in her tired voice. “If you think I'm going to let you disappear on me after
that
, you're sorely mistaken.”

* * *

Shaun exited the room with a burst of speed, heading directly for where he assumed the stairs would be. With the main elevator out of the equation, he didn't want to risk the maintenance elevator in case they were tied together on the same electrical system.

Despite the surrounding darkness, Shaun's eyes had become conditioned enough to the near-absence of light that he maintained sure footing until he found the stairs. He threw open the door and took the steps three at a time, pushing his lungs to the point of exhaustion. He'd given Lexie the impression of being more certain of her safety than he actually felt, though she had to know that. The woman had a remarkable head on her shoulders.
And soft lips, too.

Lips that, Lord willing, he'd be kissing again and again once this whole thing ended. He had at least a month's worth of vacation time coming to him, and while he'd been planning to use it on a beach somewhere in the South Pacific, maybe he could hang around the rocky shores of Newfoundland for a few coffee dates with Lexie. If she was willing to spend time with him, of course.

Shaun blinked against the bright lights of the main deck, eyes aching at the shift after so many hours in darkness and silence. The air around him was anything but silent—noise and laughter filtered down the hall to where he stood. The sound came from the direction of the lounge, loud enough for Shaun to suspect that the room had filled with passengers evacuated from the affected areas on the lower decks...if there had even been passengers down there at all. The place had seemed deserted.

When he thought it through, it made sense, particularly if their pursuer wanted to be certain that the only casualties were himself and Lexie.

No passengers...because passengers would ask questions. Cause the ship to be shut down, maybe delay service while an investigation was underway to solve the crime. Customers would have to choose Atlantic Voyages' competitor in the meantime. But an isolated incident with no witnesses? Much easier to shove under the rug or explain away.

That meant the Wolf's identity matched that of someone invested in the ongoing success of this particular ferry service. Atlantic Voyages' competitor must not be a viable option for criminal activities, which spun the compass directly toward the few people who could arrange things like GPS trackers in walkie-talkies or an extremely isolated bomb blast. Who had the authority to arrange for no passengers to be on the lower deck before the bomb went off? And why bother with such an elaborate scheme? Josh's walkie-talkie had been missing, but pegging him as the Wolf? Josh didn't fit the profile, but then, what did Shaun really know about the notorious criminal beyond the bare bones of how he conducted his operation?

The Wolf hadn't escaped detection for a decade by allowing evidence to clearly point to his identity. He wasn't a sloppy man by any means, and the missing walkie-talkie from Josh's belt was an amateur mistake. Sure, they had the Wolf running scared, but that had been
far
too overt. Almost like a last-ditch effort at deflection.

Shaun rounded the corner to the security office, mind racing and hoping that Lexie wouldn't have to sit alone in the dark much longer. He picked up speed and sprinted the rest of the way to Parsons's office. Shaun gripped the corner of the door frame and came to an abrupt stop, startling the head of ferry security as he sat at his desk, typing on a computer.

“Parsons! My radio is toast. I need yours. We have to radio in medical and send them to deck three. Lexie's hurt and she needs attention immediately.”

Parsons jumped up from his desk, quickly shifting papers around with a look of utter shock on his face. “Lane! We thought—I mean—the bomb! And then we didn't hear from you. The woman, is she...”

“Lexie's okay, she just needs help.” Now that he'd stopped moving, Shaun's lungs had caught up to him. He doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. “And she needs it fast. Might be frostbite. The sooner we get medical to her, the less likely she'll be to lose a finger or toe.”

Parsons frowned and grabbed a handful of papers off his desk, shoving them into a drawer that he locked with a key on his belt. “You all right, son? You look like you've been through the ringer.”

“Lexie.” Shaun wheezed, drawing deep breaths. “Go ahead. I'll find the other guys and let them know what's going on. I assume they're dealing with fallout from the blast?”

“Yes, of course. I'll deal with Lexie. Don't worry. Third floor, you said?”

“In the prayer chapel.” Shaun released a deep breath, his lungs finally starting to calm. “Have medical bring a stretcher. She's feisty, but she's weaker than she'll let on. Probably try to run a marathon tomorrow if we let her.”

“Roger.” Parsons pulled a walkie-talkie from a wall mount and handed it to Shaun as he headed out the door. “You need a sec?”

“Yeah. I'll shut the door behind me, don't worry.” With a grunt, Parsons sauntered off, a little less speed in his step than Shaun would have liked. He stood a little straighter to call after the man and reiterate the need for expediency. “Say, Parsons—” Shaun's words froze in his throat as his gaze swept across Parsons's office. In the far corner of the room, on the top shelf next to a tackle box and a rusty-looking dive helmet, sat a display box of antique hunting knives.

That's not so strange,
Shaun thought, shaking off the immediate alarm.
Plenty of people keep antiques.
Having it placed on a shelf next to old gear only told him Parsons was sentimental, not a criminal. If it was a crime to own old wilderness equipment, someone should have arrested Shaun's father a long time ago.

Shaun chastised himself for wasting time with absurd speculation. He needed to be on the move, find the other guys and figure out how to confront Josh regarding his suspicions. Shaun reached in to grab the door handle, pulled the door halfway shut and froze again. Directly across from him, peeking out of the top of the drawer Parsons had just shoved papers into and locked, was a slip of red.

With his visual acuity honed through years of training, the flash of color stood out to Shaun in an otherwise understated but messy room. It looked as if something inside the drawer had been displaced when Parsons shoved his handful of papers inside. Shaun released his hold on the door handle and stepped into the office, light-headedness creeping up his spine and into his skull.

Using two fingers, Shaun grasped the red paper. It was firm and stiff.
Like a folder.
He tugged on it, hearing the sound of tearing from inside the drawer. The drawer had locked, but the lock was now jammed on the folder. No problem. What kind of CIA agent would he be if he didn't know how to pick a simple lock?

It took all of thirty seconds for Shaun to open the drawer and pull out the folder. He realized with surprise that his hands were trembling. Inside his gut, he knew exactly what would be inside this folder once he opened it—but he desperately hoped he was wrong, because if this folder was what he thought it might be, he'd been very,
very
wrong this whole time.

It took a fraction of a second to confirm his suspicions. Instantly, all the pieces fell into place. With a burst of adrenaline, Shaun raced through the door to follow Parsons—only to find himself nearly face-to-face with Reed.

“We need to find Lexie,” Shaun shouted as he ran full tilt toward Reed. “She's in—”

Reed's arm shot out, clotheslining Shaun as he tried to run past. Shaun tumbled to the floor, clutching his throat. He rolled and came up in a crouch, but the combination of shock and surprise had thrown him off his game, putting Reed in an advantageous position. Shaun reached behind him to grab his gun, only to see it lying on the floor three feet away. It had fallen out of his belt when he went down—and Reed saw it, too.

A million scenarios swept through Shaun's brain, but only one of them left him alive at the end. Rather than take Reed on in a diving match for the gun, Shaun rushed his opponent, fist ready to swing, but being clotheslined had lowered his reaction time.

Reed landed the first punch, and Shaun's vision faded to darkness.

SEVENTEEN

L
exie shivered in the candlelit prayer room. She wasn't blind—she'd seen the fear on Shaun's face. He worried that she'd lose a finger or toe after being outside for too long, and Lexie couldn't blame him. But after the way he'd kissed her and told her it would be okay, she believed him. Despite everything that had happened so far, he still trusted in God's ultimate control. She didn't know if she'd take it quite that far just yet...but she was working on it. Actively. Like, right now.

A soft rustle in the hallway sent alarm bells ringing. Could that be Shaun? When the rustle stopped and no further sound came, her heart skipped a beat. No, not Shaun. Suddenly, the light from the candles seemed overwhelmingly bright. Surely someone would be able to see that from the doorway. She should snuff them out.

With aching fingers, Lexie picked up the candles one by one and blew them out with a quick huff, her lips as close to the flames as she could get them without burning. The smell of extinguished flame wafted through her corner of the room.

Seconds later, the rustle returned. The footsteps were more distinct this time. Lexie held her breath as they came closer and closer.

A bright light shone from the doorway into Lexie's face, and she squinted up into it. Not Shaun, but at least whoever had the light hadn't shot her on sight.

“Miss Reilly,” said a familiar voice. “There you are. I hear you're injured?”

Who was it? She couldn't see past the light. “Yes...did Shaun send you?”

“Not exactly.” The beam of light moved off her face, allowing her to see clearly around the gleam. Josh stood in the doorway, flashlight in one hand and stun gun in the other, the latter pointed directly at her. “But I suggest you come with me. I'm afraid I won't take no for an answer.”

Lexie hauled herself to her feet, wincing at the ache in her leg. She'd been so cold, she'd forgotten all about the bullet that had grazed her leg while she and Shaun were on the run. “I'm not going anywhere without Shaun. He'll be back at any second, and he's bringing the rest of security with him.”

To her surprise, instead of capitulating, Josh only laughed. “He thinks so, does he? Then that should make the next few minutes very interesting. Come on, out of the room. No funny stuff.”

His casual dismissal of the rest of the security team stunned Lexie worse than she thought any stun gun could. Josh waved the gun at the doorway, and despite the typical nonlethal nature of stun guns, Lexie knew very well that the tool could be deadly in the wrong hands. She had no illusions about how much it would hurt to be shot, or that she'd walk away from a high-voltage dose of pure electricity unscathed.

In the hallway, Josh gripped her forearm and pointed her in the direction that she and Shaun had come from. Josh used the flashlight to guide their way, but Lexie paid very little attention to where he led them. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. Did he have an accomplice on the security team? Perhaps he and Reed had been operating right under Parsons's nose. It made sense, except that neither man seemed as if he had the strength or skill to pull off such a complex operation under their boss's nose. Then again, what did she and Shaun really know about them? All she'd seen from these men was a willingness to follow orders.

“How'd you know where to find me?” Lexie blinked against the rising wave of panic. She needed to stall whatever inevitable fate Josh had planned for her.

“I smelled the smoke from the candles you put out. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“You'll see,” he mumbled. “Quiet, please.”

“You'll never get away with this. You already know the ship is stuck in the ice and the Coast Guard is on the way. Passengers will need to return to their rooms to get their belongings, and someone's going to see something.”

“This will be long over by then, Reilly. I'm pleased to say that this little operation is in its final throes. It'll be over soon and you won't have to worry about a thing.”

Everything he said made less and less sense. “Why? Are you going to kill me and finish off the job?”

“Kill you? Whatever gave you that idea?” They'd come to a stop in front of a familiar-looking metal door with a crash bar in the center. “Outside, please.”

Lexie's semi-warmed bones grew chilled again. “I just came in from outside. Please, I might have frostbite already.”

“I think frostbite is going to be the least of your worries.” He chuckled. It was a chilling sound, and for the first time since Shaun had left her alone to find help, Lexie wondered whether she'd actually make it out of this alive. Where was Shaun? Had Josh already “taken care” of him upstairs? Was he lying somewhere in the dark, in need of medical assistance?

“I said, outside.” Josh shoved her from behind, forcing Lexie to push on the crash bar and open the door. To Lexie's surprise, she wasn't blasted by cold night air but might as well have been stepping into a bowl of pea soup. Thick, early morning fog enveloped them from every side. Lexie could barely see her hands in front of her face, let alone Josh behind her. If only she could get him to release her arm somehow.

“My leg hurts,” she said. “I can't stand for long. You shot me in the leg earlier, and I think I've lost some blood.”

“I didn't shoot you,” Josh grunted. “Keep quiet if you know what's good for you.”

“Of course you did. What I don't understand is how—”

“I said,
quiet.
I won't ask again.” The stun gun pressed painfully into her spine. A radio's alarm broke the silence of the morning air, and Lexie heard Josh slide a walkie-talkie from his belt. “I've got her. We're outside on deck three. South end.”

A garbled response that sounded like “be right there” came over the line. Moments later, the door reopened. Lexie held her breath, praying for Shaun to burst through the fog, gun drawn—

Parsons slipped into view instead. Seeing Josh, he raised his hands in surrender.

“Watch out!” Lexie shrieked at Parsons, hoping the man would turn around and run back inside. “He's armed and dangerous! And he's a—”

Behind her, Josh groaned in exasperation. Not the reaction she'd expected. Nor had she expected Parsons to ignore her, cross the short distance to them with a bemused expression on his face and point a lazy finger at Josh. “Him? He's a what?”

“An internationally wanted criminal mastermind...” Lexie's voice trailed off as she saw the cruel smirk on Parsons's face. Also gone was the friendly Newfy accent. “No. Oh, no, no,
no.
”

Parsons nodded. “I'm afraid so, little lady. Thank you, Bosworth, I'll take it from here.”

“The CIA agent?” Josh growled.

“He's been dealt with, but the icebreaker is nearly here. We need to wrap this up if we're going to move these women when we dock. We've had—” he glanced pointedly at Lexie “—a number of unexpected complications on this journey.”

Lexie gasped, drawing Parsons's attention back to herself. “You're working for Josh? Don't you understand? He's trafficking young women and forcing them into domestic slavery and grueling overseas factory work. Doesn't that make you sick?”

Parsons shrugged, glanced at Josh and laughed. “No, not really. In fact, it makes me a very, very rich man.”

Deeper understanding dawned on Lexie. Parsons didn't work for Josh.
Josh worked for him
. “But...”

“I believe you know me as the Wolf, Alexandra. Now, that's quite enough exposition for one day. Hand her over, Bosworth.” Parsons gestured at Josh, wiggling his fingers. “I need to pack this one away with the others and dispose of a body. Chop, chop. Work to be done.”

Lexie's heart sank into her shoes. This truly was the end after all. They'd dispose of her and Shaun, and neither one of them would be seen again. The missing-persons investigator would become a missing person. Then Parsons's words dawned on her. “Wait, pack me away? What do you mean? Are you going to kill me?”

Parsons raised an eyebrow and clapped his hands. “Kill you? Of course not. I haven't killed you despite all your nosing around, so why should I do it now?”

Lexie sputtered in disbelief. “The bomb? The shots? You gassed us and one of your men attacked us in the engine room! Of course you've been trying to kill us.”

“Uh-uh.” Parsons wagged a finger in her face. “Not true. The man who attacked you paid for his mistake, and the others? Carefully timed and controlled to ensure that you'd be returned to me in one piece.
You
, that is. Lane, I couldn't care less about. Collateral damage, really. I'm not a stupid man, Alexandra.”

Lexie's heart thudded against her ribs. Why was this happening? “But Shaun said you rescued us from the gas in the library. Why do that if you set it up in the first place? Why bother?”

“Why? Use your noggin, girl. I needed to gain your trust to find out what you knew. And to stay in the loop to keep you from getting too close.” He winked, and Lexie felt nauseated. “Besides, it took me off your suspect list from the very beginning. Simple as that.”

A wave of heat washed over Lexie as a ringing in her ears signaled the beginning of a panic attack. She had no one to help calm her down this time, no one to make sure she was safe. If the panic attack took full hold, she'd be vulnerable for at least ten minutes until it passed.

God, help me, please.
It was the second sincere prayer she'd offered up since Shaun's departure for help. And although she still wasn't sure if God truly cared, Shaun believed that God was in control, that He had a purpose and a plan for all things, even in the darkest hours and the remotest corners of the earth. Isn't that what she'd been meant to learn in Botswana all those years ago? Isn't that what God was still trying to teach her, even now?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as Parsons continued his diatribe.

“You should have left well enough alone, and I would have allowed you to return home without incident. Your problem is, you're too nosy for your own good.”

Lexie struggled against Josh's grip, but the stun gun jabbed into her spine. “You're a monster. How can you do this to innocent people? You're destroying families. Ruining lives. Those girls have a bright future ahead of them.”

“Big corporations destroy thousands of lives—millions, you might argue—every day in subtler ways, and no one complains about that, do they? And besides, these women still have a bright future. They'll be helping local economies on a daily basis, increasing economic output in the factories they work for. It's still a bright future, just not the one you so mistakenly think they'll give themselves if they have the free will to do so. Most people lack ambition, Alexandra. You're one of the rare few who still have it—but we'll break it out of you soon enough.”

Lexie's blood ran cold. “Break it out of me? Never. Might as well kill me now.” She hoped her effort at false confidence hid the tremor in her voice.

Parsons laughed again, and Lexie's stomach roiled. “And lose out on a potential sale? Of course not. You may be feisty, but we have methods for dealing with that. You're young, strong, in good health. You'll fetch a pretty penny at one of the brick building camps.”

Acid built up in Lexie's throat and she swallowed it down. The man was insane. Selling women to work in factories? Shaun had been right—cutting off Maria's braid meant keeping the person intact, so she could be worked harder at a greater profit. It was beyond sickening. “You'll never get away with this,” she hissed.

“I will, and I do. Have been for many, many years.” Parsons motioned at Josh to hand her over. “I'll take it from here, Bosworth. Good work, as usual.”

But to Lexie's utter shock, the stun gun's pressure against her back eased as Josh turned the gun on Parsons. “I don't think so. This has gone far enough.”

It was Parsons's turn to be surprised. “What's this? You want a bigger cut? We can negotiate that. You haven't been around as long as Reed and Walter—oh, right, Walter is no longer with us—but normally we do this behind closed doors, much more civilly.”

“Not a raise. Timothy Parsons, turn around and put your hands in the air.”

Lexie stifled a gasp. Who
was
this guy?

Parsons voiced the exact same sentiment, raising his hands up, palms toward Josh. “You may be overstepping your bounds here a bit, son.”

“Miss Reilly, please step behind me.” Josh didn't turn to look at Lexie, but she did what he asked, because...why not? Getting out of the line of fire sounded good, unless this was just another ruse to try and goad her into information or stop her from running.

Josh lowered his voice to speak to her. “You need to trust me. I'm a deep cover agent from the RCMP. I've been working the same ring as Lane, from the inside. I've been feeding information to the CIA for several years now, but when you began your search for Maria, I realized we had the girl en route and there was a possibility you might be able to free her before she got moved overseas. I'd hoped you and Lane would cross paths.”

Lexie could hardly believe her ears—and neither could Parsons, by the looks of it. The man's cheeks had grown red, his brow dark and furrowed.

“I don't believe you,” growled Parsons. “You've worked for me for almost a year and haven't done a thing.”

“Wasn't the right time. I needed solid evidence and the right people to take you down.”

“You're not that good.”

“I only had to be better than you. And thankfully, Miss Reilly and Agent Lane were the right people.”

Parsons's scowl deepened. “You got a badge you can show me? I'll go peacefully, but I need to know you're not lying. That you're not part of some rival group looking to scam in on my good thing here.”