Red Hot BOX SET: Complete Series 1-4: A Patrick & Steeves Suspense (23 page)

T
he swimmer moved away
from the stern with Kris, swept along by the strong current and wind. Dal turned his back to the rain and wind to answer the phone.

“Steeves,” came the voice. “I knew you’d be the one to stay.”

“Sir?”

“Just my gut,” came the voice. “I’m going to put you on with Jimmy, one of the boys from the bomb squad. Okay, Steeves?”

“All right. Thank you, sir.”

“This is Jimmy.” A pause. “What’s your first name Steeves?”

“Call me Dal.” Far as he was concerned, they could call him whatever they wanted, as long as they got him off the boat in one piece.

“Good. Thanks, Dal. Look, we’ve been over the photos you guys sent us. I think there’s a way to get the guy off the wheel and both of you off that boat.”

“Without the bomb blowing us off you mean?”

“We know what we’re doing Dal, just hang in there. I’m gonna walk you through it, step by step.”

Diego shot him a look, eyes laced with fear. By now he knew nobody was coming to save them and Dal heard him mumbling under his breath, praying or talking to his wife, Dal couldn’t tell and forced his focus back to the voice on the other end of the phone.

“We’re going to do something similar to what you did when you made the switch earlier. But first, I need you to find something solid that you can use as a weight.”

“Like what?”

“What do you have on hand?”

He scanned the deck, ran through a list of items in his mind. The only thing he could think of was the anchor. “The anchor?”

“Too heavy. We want to simulate the weight of the man’s hand.” He mumbled something into the background. “We’re thinking a plate. Grab a towel, a plate, and some rope.”

Dal dropped below deck, gathered supplies and returned to Diego’s side. Off the stern, and quite a distance away, he caught a glimpse of the top of the cabin and the exhaust billowing from the other boat. Diego’s friends were waiting for him.

“You good to go?”

“Yeah.” He passed the things to Diego, who clutched them with his left arm.

“In the photo, there’s a wooden spoon under his hand. It’s still there?”

“Yeah.”

“Leave the spoon where it is. This is going to take both of you.”

“Diego,” he said, “I’m going to need your help with this.” The big man simply nodded. “We’re ready, but I have to put you on speaker to free my hands, so talk loudly.” He tucked the phone inside his belt to hold it in place.

“Good. Unwrap his hand, but make sure he keeps the same weight on the trigger.”

Pulling out his knife, he sliced the duct tape holding Diego’s right hand in place and met his eyes. “Don’t move from here,” he warned.

“Next,” Dal called.

“Put the towel and the plate over his hand. Once you have that in place, he needs to move his hand slowly from underneath, and you maintain the weight with the plate. Understand?”

“Got it.”

“Dal? Put the plate over the towel so the bottom is facing up.”

“Okay,” he said, flipping the plate. He formed a dome with the towel over Diego’s hand and placed the plate over the towel. “
Lista
?” he asked Diego. He tipped his chin and pulled back his hand. “Slowly,” Dal hissed.

Diego moved his hand, inch by inch, off the wooden spoon, while Dal increased the pressure on the plate to match the weight. For once the big man was quiet, his breath sucked in until his hand slid free. He took a step back, the wires taut and stretched. “Stop,” Dal barked. “Don’t stretch the damn wires.”

Diego’s fingers started scrabbling with the layers of tape holding the bomb to his body.

“Got it?” came the voice on the phone.

“Yes,” Dal said. “Diego, fuck I need your help here.”

Ignoring him, Diego glanced over his shoulder, searching the horizon for his friends.

“You need to wrap the rope around the plate now to hold it in place. Be careful to keep the same weight.”

“Diego, grab the rope and tie this plate in place.” Dal held both sides of the plate, careful to maintain accurate pressure.

“Fuck. You.” Diego sneered while he dug at the tape. A wave slammed into them, the bow dipped and he staggered to the side.

“
S
wimmer and survivor
on their way up.” Emily leaned forward in her seat, straining to hear the words of the officer guiding the basket up.

“Swimmer and survivor a lot of sway from front to back.” The man guided the cable through his hands. “Swimmer and survivor three feet below the door.” He leaned out of the door against the cable, then back as the basket came alongside the deck of the chopper. “Swimmer and survivor at the door.”

Emily couldn’t see past him. The large basket was pulled into the hatch by two men, a jumble of bodies. When they stepped back, the swimmer rolled off the basket to one side and they leaned down to unstrap Kris from the large flat yellow basket.

“Kris?” she said, her emotions at war. She was glad he was safe, but where the hell was Dal?

One of the officers helped him to a seat beside her while the other wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. He grinned at her. “Quite a ride.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “I’m glad you made it,” she said. “Are they bringing Dal next?”

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and shook his hair, drops flying everywhere. “He stayed behind to get Diego off the bomb.”

“What?” She half stood. “What about the bomb squad?”

“They can’t board.” He looked up at her, a sharp crease in his forehead. “It’s too close.”

“But… what? They have to board. That’s why we pushed to get here.”

He shook his head sadly. “Not gonna happen.” His eyes narrowed as she struggled to compose herself. “I tried to stay, I fought to stay behind —”

“No, Kris,” she said, touching his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re off that boat. But what the hell are they thinking?”

A grating sound caught her attention. They were sliding the door shut. She leapt to her feet and stepped forward, yelling into the cockpit. “We still need to get Dal.”

“We have orders to evacuate the area, ma’am. Please take your seat.”

“There’s still two men on that boat,” she yelled. “I’m with the American Embassy. I demand you bring them up.”

One of the officers took her arm, she struggled against him. He stood in front of her, stance wide, eyes staring into hers. “I need you to sit down. We’re following orders and you will, too.”

“Emily.” Kris reached out for her arm.

“No.” She twisted away from Kris’s touch, hung like a puppet from the arm of the large officer who had pulled them in with the swimmer. “We need to get Dal.”

“We’ll circle back when we get clearance, but for now,” he pushed her into the seat next to Kris, “you need to sit down and we need to evacuate this area.”

“
C
areful
,” Dal yelled, throwing his weight against the starboard side to regain his balance. He watched in horror as Diego’s foot slipped from beneath him, stretching the wires to their breaking point. “Damn it Diego, I’ll let go of this plate and go overboard. You need me as much as I need you.”

“Try to stay calm over there,” came Jimmy’s voice.

“Yeah, we’re having a little
technical difficulty
over here, Jimmy,” Dal said dryly.

“It’s going to take both of you, Dal,” Jimmy said. “Your friend needs to tie that plate in place for you.”

“Diego, help me. If you want to see your wife and kids again, it’s the only choice. You’re still wearing the bomb, how can you possibly be this stupid?”

“I’m not stupid,” growled Diego.

“You’re sure as hell acting stupid,” he shouted back. “I could have left you here to die, but I’m here trying to get you out of this alive. Don’t you freaking understand that?”

Diego huffed and picked up the rope. He wound it tightly around the plate as Dal maintained the pressure. The bottom of the plate provided a coarseness to keep the rope in place. He tied off a knot and raised his brow. “Good enough?”

Dal released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and started to slide his hands off the plate.

Jimmy’s voice interrupted him. “Give me a status, Dal. What’s going on over there?”

“The plate is tied down. I’m just moving my hands off now.” He inched his palms free, then his knuckles, until only his fingertips remained against the plate. He flashed back to his teens, a party, sitting in the dark with his fingers on a Ouija board. If this didn’t work, he’d be crossing to the other side himself. Glancing over at Diego - who was praying to the Madonna again - Dal took a small step back, saying his own prayers that the rope would do the trick.

Frozen in place, Dal stared at the wheel, at the mass of rope and towel and plate. A wave hit the hull, sending a stream of frigid salt water into his face.

“Status,” Jimmy barked.

“All good here,” Dal said, bringing the knife out of his pocket. “I’m going to cut the bomb off Diego.”

“Be careful that you don’t put too much stress on those wires,” Jimmy advised. “You’re going to need something to hold that bomb at about the same height. You have something that might work?”

Dal looked around the deck, gaze settling on the chair behind Diego. “There’s a second chair,” he said. “We’ll push them together so they form a bowl. That way the bomb can’t slide around.”

“Good thinking. Once you have the bomb off him, I want you both overboard as fast as possible.”

“The swimmer’s not coming back for us?” He scanned the sky.

“He’ll pick you up south of the boat. We don’t want anyone else nearby right now.”

“Roger that,” Dal said, working the blade through the layers of duct tape, careful not to snick any of the wires. The steady rocking made his work difficult. Diego jittered practically out of his skin making it damn near impossible. “We’re almost there, Diego. Stand still.”

“I don’t want to die,” he grunted, clenching his fists at his side as he widened his stance for balance.

“That makes two of us,” Dal said, watching a large swell approach. He pulled back and waited while the boat rolled dangerously over to the port. When they had rolled back starboard and finally to some sort of center point, he slid the blade back into place, sawing through the strong fibers. “What about the boat, Jimmy?” he yelled. “Can we save my friend’s boat?”

“Lives first,” came the response. The one he’d been expecting. As the knife slipped free of the tape, he gently ran his hands under the explosives and removed the deadly belt from Diego’s waist. Gingerly, he set it down on the two chairs where it shifted left to right with the rocking of the boat. Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned to see the soles of Diego’s boots as he dove over the stern. Several moments later, he surfaced and kicked off in the direction of the other boat.

Dal searched the horizon. No sign of the Coast Guard cutter. They were keeping a good distance from the bomb. Over the wind and slosh of the waves and rain, he became aware of the distinctive whup-whup of the chopper’s blades and looked up to see it flying away into the distance. Jimmy’s voice came over the phone again, telling him to get the hell off the boat. He didn’t need a second invitation.

“
S
wimmer and survivor on board
.” The large yellow basket was hauled inside the door, water draining out the far side. The swimmer rolled off. Dal turned his head, caught her eye and winked. She couldn’t hold back the large grin that split her features. Her heart felt like it would burst through her chest. It was hard to believe that her feelings could be so strong, given it had only been a couple of days. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t fall so hard, or so fast.

She waited alongside Kris while they unstrapped Dal and brought him to the side, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He collapsed into the jump seat beside her.

“We thought we lost you, buddy,” Kris said, leaning forward.

“I thought so, too,” Dal grunted. “And by the way, those life jackets of yours aren’t worth shit.”

“They weren’t meant to be used as a raft,” Kris shot back.

“Yeah well…” He winked at Em again and her stomach flipped. “What took you so long?”

“They were waiting for clearance, and when we looped back they couldn’t find you,” she said, grasping his ice-cold hand under the blanket. She brought it to her mouth, cupped her hands around his, and blew warm air onto his skin. His face was ashen, his skin clammy to the touch.

“You drifted a hell of a long way,” Kris explained.

“You’re telling me,” Dal said, slumping against the back of his seat. “Were you worried you wouldn’t see me again?” He winked at Emily again.

She punched his leg. “We both were. There was a minute when —” Her voice caught in her throat.

Kris rushed in. “We thought we lost you.”

Dal squeezed Emily’s knee. “I’m right here. No way I was letting you two leave without me.”

She met the smile in his eyes and smiled back. “And what of Diego?” Emily asked. “He wasn’t with you?”

Dal shook his head. “He went overboard before I did. The other boat was still waiting for him.”

“We didn’t see it on our way back,” Em said.

“Think he made it?” Kris asked, brows raised.

“I couldn’t hazard a guess,” Dal said, eyes drifting closed.

“Well, we’re glad you did,” Kris added.

Emily reached an arm around Dal’s strong shoulder, rubbing her hand against his upper arm, relief surging through her. The chopper banked and turned toward shore. Against all odds, they were going home.

E
mily squeezed
her eyes closed against the sunlight heating her eyelids. She’d forgotten to close the blind again. The rattle of a streetcar alerted her that she wasn’t at home. Peering beneath her lashes, she saw a trail of her clothing strewn across the bedroom floor. A large, warm presence pressed against her back and she remembered. She was in Dal’s arms, in Dal’s bed.

A shiver ran up her spine and warmed her thighs as she remembered their path to the bedroom last night. His kisses along the side of her neck, his mouth, his fingers, exploring every inch of her. Her back arched slightly as she relived the pleasure he’d brought her, not once, but twice, his body and essence joined with hers.

She peeked over her shoulder and giggled when she found him staring back at her with those smoldering gray eyes.

“Morning, Gorgeous,” he said, voice husky with sleep, a smile tugging his lip up. He snuggled against her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” she said. “Compared to twenty-four hours ago, I mean.”

“Yeah, we do make a great team,” he said, his hand caressing her hip. “In and out of bed…”

“What I can’t figure out—”

“Shhhh.” He shushed her, rolled her over. “Come here,” he said, snuggling her head into his neck. “Never mind that. Just for now, let’s put all of that behind us.”

Her head rested in that crook between his shoulder and his chest that she always loved on a man. That spot where she could tell if they fit or not. There was no question with Dal, they definitely fit. “Mmmm, works for me.”

“What would you like to do today? I mean… if you don’t already have plans.”

She pinched his nipple and he grunted in a satisfying way. “I think I can clear my schedule.”

“Let’s do something fun then, something… completely pedestrian. How about we go eat a big breakfast and then go out to the beach in Coronado?”

“First,” she said, glancing out the window at the angle of the sun, “I think we’ve likely missed breakfast. And secondly,” she laughed, “you are not getting me anywhere near the damn ocean.”

His hand dipped to her side and his fingers trailed along her ribs, then squeezed. She pulled away. “Don’t… don’t tickle me.” He did then, in earnest, pinning her against the bed and tickling her until she was snorting and gulping in air.

“If not the beach, then tell me where,” he said, laughing at her distress.

“Okay,” she snorted. “The zoo.”

“The zoo?”

“You said something pedestrian.” She widened her eyes and fluttered her lashes in an exaggerated show of innocence. “Anyway, our zoo is world class, so why not?”

“Fair enough,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. His lips pressed against hers and she surrendered to the moment. As he deepened the kiss, she kissed him back, a familiar heat spreading through her.

On the bedside table, her phone chirped.

“Leave it,” he said, fingers brushing her nipple.

She reached for the phone and checked the display. “It’s my father,” she said, rolling away from him. “Dad.”

“Em? Ohmigawd, Emily, I was so worried.” Her father’s voice crackled across the line, taut with emotion.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” she said, pushing herself to a sitting position against the headboard.

“I was fishing,” he rushed on, “and left my phone behind.”

“Dad—”

“I know, you’ve told me a thousand times not to do that, but, you know me, I forgot it, and when I got back this morning there were several voice mails from you and also someone asking if I was your next of kin?”

“What?” She leaned forward as Dal slid a pillow behind her back before slipping out of bed.

“I’ll make coffee,” he whispered. She grinned as she watched him pull fresh boxers over his strong thighs before turning back to the call.

“… did you hear me? Someone left a message asking if I was your next of kin,” her father was saying.

“Oh, Dad, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Tell me what happened,” he said, authority pushing the stress out of his voice.

“I’ll fill you in on the details later. How much do you already know?” Her father was a stickler for details but she just couldn’t face going through it all with him this minute.

“You were on a boat in the harbor and they thought you might not make it,” he said.

“Right. The Coast Guard got us off the boat, in the middle of a horrible storm, and when the boat didn’t blow up—”

“Blow up? There was a bomb on the boat? What kind of job has Jack gotten you into?”

Em wondered the same herself. “Anyway, Dad, the boat didn’t blow up so the Coast Guard brought it back to shore later. We all came in on the SARs chopper.”

Downstairs, the doorbell buzzed. In the background, she could hear Dal moving around his kitchen, pots and pans banging. The bell rang again, whoever was at the door insistent and impatient.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, honey,” her father said. “I thought I might lose you in Afghanistan. I never expected you’d be in that kind of danger in your own back yard.”

“I know, Dad, same,” she said, quietly. “There is one thing… it’s about Jack.”

“Right, I need to call him next.”

“Dad,” she started, “Jack is missing. He was left in Mexico by the thugs he hired…” A tear rolled down her cheek. Her father’s best friend, her beloved uncle. How could she possibly explain this to him?

“Emily,” Dal called. His footsteps on the stairs preceded him. He rounded the corner of the door jamb, eyes wide. “I need you downstairs right now.”

She nodded and made a circle in the air with her finger.

He pushed his hand through his hair, standing it on end across the top of his head. “Now,” he said, his jaw set. “I’m sorry but this can’t wait.” He strode across the room, gathered her jeans and t-shirt from the floor and put them beside her on the bed.

“Dad, I’m sorry I’ll have to call you back—”

“Em, we need to talk more about Jack.”

“I’ll call you, Dad, promise.” She ended the call and stared at Dal’s back disappearing back into the hallway.

She pulled on her t-shirt and jeans and padded down the stairs behind him.

* * *

E
mily followed
the hallway to the voices to the kitchen and stopped short in the doorway. At the kitchen table was a large man in a blue suit and gold striped tie. She’d seen countless photographs of him in the newspaper and knew his face well from media clips. He was even more imposing in person and stood as she entered the room.

“Miss Patrick,” he said, “I’m Senator Green.”

“Of course, Senator,” she said, as she shook the hand he extended. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, his gaze taking her in. She realized he was sizing her up - and somehow finding her wanting. First impressions often went that way with her. She had a slight build and was short - especially compared to the Senator who towered over her. His eyes slid from her to the other person sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee.

“Miss Patrick,” the woman said, half-rising, “welcome home.” Jack’s boss. In effect, her boss, too. She cocked her head and wondered how much the woman knew. More importantly, how much should she reveal?

Em tipped her chin. “Ms. Page, nice to see you again.”

The woman raised her coffee and chuckled. “No need to be so formal, Patrick. Call me Jill. You’ll probably want a coffee for this conversation.”

Dal set a cup in front of her and she took a place at the table, her mind racing in a thousand directions at once. She caught Dal’s eye. He shrugged slightly and slid into the chair beside her.

“So,” Senator Green began, “I guess you’re wondering what this is all about.”

“First,” Ms. Page interrupted, “we want to congratulate both of you on a job well done. Patrick, you did the Embassy proud.”

“Agreed,” said the Senator. “Jill tells me it was your first day on the job?”

Emily nodded and slurped her coffee.

A slight smile graced the Senator’s lips before he turned back to Dal. “And Dal, once again, you’ve been a hero and survived against the odds.”

Dal’s hand slid onto her thigh under the table, and she twined her fingers with his. “We do make a good team,” he said, giving her thigh a slight squeeze.

“Steeves, we’ve been in touch with the Fire Department and they’ve confirmed that you’ll be on leave for an indefinite period of time.”

“Indefinite?” He tensed. “I understood it was only for a few months.”

Jill leaned forward and clasped her hands on the table. “It’s a good thing,” she said. “We also think you two make a good team. We want you to… do some work together.”

“What kind of work?” Emily asked, her curiosity outweighing her nervousness.

“Sort of a special task force,” Jill continued. “Undercover, of course.”

She snuck a glance at Dal. “Undercover,” he said, repeating Jill’s words.

Senator Green picked up the thread. “You’ll be serving your country,” he said. “Something both of you already have a solid history of doing. We can’t tell you much, but we can tell you that it’s a matter of national security and we think you,” he let his eyes slide between Em and Dal, “will be the perfect team for the job.”

Em felt her jaw drop and quickly closed it.

“Senator Green will be financing the mission,” Jill said.

“You’ve been generous enough,” Dal said, looking to the Senator.

“This is a different matter,” Senator Green said, brushing aside Dal’s comment. “We have a budget earmarked for this.”

Emily looked from Dal to the Senator. Who has a budget, she wondered. And what did Dal mean about Green being generous? She’d have to ask him later.

“As for the Embassy, none of this can be tracked back to us. But rest assured,” Jill said as she leaned forward, her face somber, “we’ll help as much as we can. You won’t be on your own out there.”

“Out where?” Emily asked.

“We can’t go into details right now,” Jill continued. “I can tell you that it’s connected to Jack, but the rest… We want you to meet with us on Monday morning for a full briefing. We’ll need to set you up with special security clearance.”

Em reached for her coffee and took a long sip to allow her mind to catch up. It sounded a hell of a lot better than a desk job. Dal squeezed her hand and she looked up into his eyes, a smile teasing her lips. He quirked a brow. And she remembered again what he’d said about them being a good team.

“What do you say?” asked the Senator, rising to indicate their meeting was completed.

She set her cup down and nodded. “We can go to the zoo another time.”