A Dangerous Harbor (32 page)

A hinge creaked open and the voices faded as they clanged down metal steps. Steps down? She'd completely forgotten about the bilge!

Throwing off the smelly rugs, she scrambled up and removing her shoes, tiptoed over to look down the hole into the bilge. There would be more pumps below, watertight bulkheads against a breach to the hull and a good place hide Leila.

Katy removed her gun from her jacket and quietly took the metal stairs down to what she hoped wasn't her sister's grave.

A Mexican was down on his knees working at the knots of a rope holding the limp body of her sister to a post and Jeff stood by impatiently directing the other man's efforts.

She pointed her
Glock
at them and shouted, "Stop right there! Put up your hands!"

The two men whirled around. Jeff tensed when he saw the gun then relaxed. "I found this Mexican on the boat and when I questioned him, he admitted to holding this girl for ransom. I convinced him to let her go."

Katy, never letting her gun waver, glanced at the wide-eyed Mexican cowering at the sight of her gun.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jeff reach behind him, grab a length of rusty chain and throw it at her legs. She tried to jump out of the way, but a few links caught her ankle, knocking her to the floor. When Jeff made a dive for her gun a large foot kicked it away and out of his reach

She looked up. Gabe. He offered Katy a hand up while Fred stepped around them and planted the tip of his machete at Jeff's forehead. "Give me a reason and I'll gladly slice you in two, you scumbag."

Katy went to her sister and kneeled down. She called over her shoulder to the others. "She's okay!"

Leila was groggy, but awake. She put up a hand to the back of her head and winced. "Where's the bastard that clocked me?"

"He's going to jail; we'll see to that. Now, let's get you out of here, sweetie."

Fred and Gabe tied Jeff's and the Mexican's hands behind their backs and led them off the boat. From the dock, Fred called hotel security and within minutes they were surrounded by guards who took the two men away.

Katy looked from Gabe to Leila and said, "I'm going to the police station. I need to see if anyone can tell me about Raul. Here, Gabe," she said, handing him her
Glock
. "Tempting as it is, I can't take this into jail with me, and in any case, I'm going to enjoy telling Spencer his plan backfired."

Fred tossed her the keys to his car. "Take my van. It's the gray one by our dock. And give him a swift kick for me?"

She bounced the keys in her hand. "Is
Myne
the only reason you're interested in Spencer?"

"Officially? I work as an investigator for the IRS. This yacht is just one of the props I used to get closer to Spencer Bobbitt. My sector chief knows our family drama, so he sent me instead of someone else, with the agreement that I'd see if I could find Spencer's hidden assets. Is it true that he planted a bomb at the chief inspector's home?"

"Yes," she said, her voice catching in her throat. "Though nothing's official yet as to whether or not he was in the house at the time."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I understand he was one of the good ones."

"Yes, he is—or was."

"Well, good luck with Spencer, then."

The police station had emptied of most of the officers. Sergeant Moreno was nowhere in sight and a pimply faced youth sat at the reception desk, obviously uncomfortable at having to answer questions and since he didn't know the whereabouts of either the sergeant or anyone else in authority who could answer her questions, she guessed he was recruited for the job at the last minute. He was, however, suitably impressed with her American police ID and happily escorted her upstairs to the visitor's room, where he haughtily ordered the jailer to present the prisoner to the American police woman post-haste.

Still worked up from the last hour of drama, she paced the tiny room until at
last
the door opened and Spencer walked in, his face devoid of expression.

"Perfect. You're here and just in time."

Katy lifted her chin and said, "You're completely out of bargaining chips, Spencer. I found my sister on your boat and Jeff and the Mexican are now in custody."

"Yes, yes, I figured as much. Never let a boy do a man's job, I always say." He drew out a gun and pointed it at her. "Which leaves me with you. You're going to be my ticket out of this God-forsaken country, and if you're a very good girl, maybe I'll ransom you to your wealthy family instead of giving you flying lessons from three thousand feet."

He pounded on the door and when it opened, he was handed a linen jacket which he laid over his gun hand, and pulling another envelope out of his pocket, he handed it to her. "Copies of the paperwork you thought you didn't need."

Then he motioned the jailer to clip on a pair of metal cuffs, his left wrist to her right hand. With his right hand tucked under the jacket, they took the elevator downstairs.

"You can't possibly think you're going to get away with this."

"Of course I will. The plane is waiting and all you have to do is follow directions."

When they were downstairs, he stood close to her, the gun dimpling her side while she handed the paperwork to the young officer. When the young man gave her a quick look, Spencer lifted their cuffed wrists to show that he was indeed in her custody.

Outside, a taxi pulled up. The driver, seeing the two gringos, waited only long enough to hear the man say airport before popping the clutch and lurching into afternoon traffic. Katy wasn't surprised that he never gave his passengers another look. He was intent on driving two Americans to the airport in a timely and safe fashion, and then getting paid with a nice tip for a job well done.

If only Raul was alive and got her message before she was dropped out at three thousand feet above the Sonoran Desert. Pushing away the sorrow and pain of her loss, she reminded herself that she wasting time. It was up to her to find a way out of this predicament before it was too late.

At the airport, Spencer instructed the driver to take a side road around the small terminal to where a guard waited at a closed gate. At Spencer's nod, the guard opened the gate and let them through. With the gun still at her ribs, Spencer told the driver to aim for a line of private jets lined up at the far end of the tarmac. He shoved a fistful of dollars at the driver and motioned for Katy to open her door.

She sighed and did as she was told as there was no sense in taking a stand here where the driver might be shot in the melee.

She got out first, Spencer scrambling after her and kicking the door closed. The taxi driver never looked back as he sped off in a cloud of dust.

 
She looked around. Nothing but a line of private jets and this one, the steps down, the pilot at ready, the engines revved up for takeoff.

She dug in her heels. "Unlock the cuffs, Spencer. I'm not getting on that plane with you."

"Oh, I think you will. A simple phone call can connect me with someone to finish the job on your sister."

"You already tried that once and it didn't work. She's safely surrounded by friends and out of your reach."

Spencer showed her his big teeth. "I still have influence." Then he reached into his pocket and pulling out a key, unlocked the cuffs. "You have a choice; go with me and know that your sister is safe, or take the chance that you can warn her in time."

Glaring at each other, neither of them noticed the black Mercedes speeding up the tarmac.

Raul
Vignaroli
braked the car so hard it shuddered. He got out and with his hands up so Spencer could see that he was unarmed, and walked towards them. "Let her go, Spencer!"

Pushing her in front to act as a shield and backing them both towards the steps of the plane, he said, "Oh, but I have. See?" He held up the handcuff now only attached to his wrist. "She wants to come with me, don't you Katy?"

 
Katy called a warning to Raul, "He has a gun!"

Raul nodded, keeping his empty hands where Spencer could see them as he continued advancing. "You can leave, but you must let her go."

Spencer backed awkwardly up the steps, dragging Katy along as his shield while Raul stood helplessly at the bottom of the steps. At the last minute, Spencer pushed Katy down the steps and ducked inside.

As Raul rushed to break her fall, the jet revved its engines and the steps started to retract. They stumbled back out of the way as it moved off down the runway.

Raul crushed her to his chest, dragging his mouth across her wet cheeks, her eyes and finally her mouth.

She pulled back, her voice shaking with the adrenaline of the last few hours. "Took you long enough." Then she reached up and touched his face. "I thought… I thought you were dead."

They turned to watch the jet ready itself at the end of the runway. "Can't you keep him from taking off?"

"No, I can't stop him without a squadron here to close off the runway and I didn't want to take the chance that you would be on it."

"Then he's just going to get away with everything he's done? Murder, extortion, kidnapping?"

"I don't think Spencer Bobbitt is going to get very far."

They stood together watching the wheels folding up into the wheel-wells as the jet rushed up to meet the thin hot air of Ensenada, and there was a part of her that was glad to see the last of Spencer Bobbitt.

As the jet soared up and over the barren hills of Ensenada they heard a popping sound and then the air was rocked by the blast of a tremendous explosion. The jet was now a fireball, metal pieces falling back to the earth.

Katy clutched Raul's arm. "What...?"

In the distance she heard sirens.

"I suspected as much," he said, turning her toward his car. "The Mexican cartels do not like loose ends and Spencer Bobbitt was now more of a liability than an asset."

"Raul, please don't take this the wrong way," she said when she was in the passenger side. "I'm happy to see you and all, but where have you been?"

"I'm sorry, but I had to set up a command post to sort out who had engineered the attack on my home. It was determined that this was not an act of terrorism but a simple attempt on my life by one of
Señor
Bobbitt's henchmen. And since I survived, the
Sinaloan
Cartel, being the pragmatic sort that they are, determined that
Señor
Bobbitt should be eliminated."

In his car, and away from spectators, he drew her into her arms and held her tightly.

She pulled back. "Your home… is it completely gone?"

"Yes," he said, kissing her forehead.

"I'm so sorry. What about the parrot?"

He drew back. "You know, until this moment, I'd completely forgotten about him. Poor thing. I don't suppose, no… once the detonation on the explosives took the foundation, the entire structure went over the cliff. It's a miracle no one below was hurt as it went down that mountain. The house, the parrot. Do you know something? I believe… yes, I know I am relieved. I am finally free. That's a good thing, yes?
 
Yes, I believe it will be a very good thing. Would you want to…"

"Yes," she said, holding onto his hand as he drove. "Let's go somewhere. Puerto Vallarta, anywhere."

"What about your sister… and Gabe?"

"My sister… oh dear. Of course. Let me check on them first, okay?"

When they got back to her dock, Leila shouted a greeting from the transom of Fred's boat and ran down the dock to meet them.