Ransom (5 page)

She got herself and him tall glasses of water. When the toast was ready and buttered on a plate, they sat at the dining table while she nibbled on the toast.

Blake leaned back in his chair. The drop-down light over the dining table covered him in a soft glow, gentling the sharp edges of the angles and planes of his face. “Tell me about your family's business.”

Was he really interested or making small talk? It was hard to tell from the neutral expression on his face. Deciding it didn't matter either way, she replied, “My dad was a professor of history when he met my mother. She'd worked in a coffee shop near campus. They had a whirlwind romance that lasted two decades. Mom loved antiques so buying the store on Hilton Head Island gave them a common interest.”

“So they ran the store together?”

“They did, until mom's illness. Lymphoma.”

“I'm sorry for your loss.” He sounded sincere, and she appreciated his consideration.

“Thank you.” She finished off her toast as a wave of exhaustion took hold. “Dad was never the same after she passed. Ten years later his heart gave out. But I think he died of a broken heart.”

“Leaving you to care for your younger sister,” Blake said.

“Yes. I promised my dad on his deathbed I would take care of Jillian.” From the moment her father had elicited the promise to watch out for Jillian, Liz had been doing so. She'd come home from college to finish out her last two terms via online classes and worked in their father's shop while Jillian finished up high school.

“You were what, twenty? Surely you had other family who could take some of the burden?”

“Both my mom's and dad's parents passed on when we were little. It was just me and Jillian.”

“What is she like?”

“Pretty like our mother. She got Mom's fine bones and masses of curly blond hair. A free-spirited artist.” But Liz had the more angular features of their father and her dishwater blond hair was stick straight. No matter what type of styling equipment she used, she couldn't get her fine, thin hair to curl. “I take more after Dad.”

There were other differences, as well. Jillian was also reckless, always chasing after one dream or another, while Liz analyzed and contemplated before making any decision. Over the years Liz had endeavored to curb her sister's wild ways to no avail.

“Was he reserved and thoughtful, like you?”

She'd been called reserved often. She didn't mind that moniker. Opening herself up to others didn't come naturally or easy. But Blake considered her thoughtful? That was nice. He was nice when he wasn't trying to intimidate her.

“Dad was passionate about the store. So in that respect, yes, I'm like him. I enjoy running the business. Over the years Dad taught me how to manage the inventory and the books so when he passed on it was a given that I'd take over while Jillian finished high school and then dabbled at college.”

Anxious dread weighed down her heart as worry bubbled. Was Jillian all right? Was she resting? Getting food to eat?

“Yet you managed to finish college,” he said sounding impressed.

“I did.” She was proud of the accomplishment. “My degree in marketing has proven effective with the store.”

“So you run the shop and provide for Jillian.” He cocked his head to the side. “Who watches out for you and your needs?”

His question caught her off guard. She had no ready answer. She'd been content to manage the store while Jillian went off to college to study art. Her passion, as Jillian had claimed with dramatic flair when Liz had suggested she major in something a bit more practical.

She didn't regret the time spent keeping the business going or providing as much guidance as she could for Jillian. It was her choice to honor her father's promise. And she would continue to do so. Jillian needed her now more than ever.

Deep inside of her, resentment stirred for the promise she'd made, the years of sacrifice. And as quickly, guilt swamped her, flooding her heart and her mind, drowning the resentment. How could she not want to keep her promise to her father? How could she begrudge taking care of her sister?

Still Blake's question poked at her, forcing her to admit to herself that the last time she'd felt cared for had been before her mother had fallen ill. A heavy sadness pressed on her shoulders. Mom had been so loving and kind, yet she'd been stern when needed. She'd been encouraging and giving. Liz had admired her so much. And had wanted to emulate her in every way. When the sickness had grabbed ahold of her, Liz had stepped up to fill her shoes by taking over the household chores and the cooking and even taking care of young Jillian.

Dad had tried to stay involved in their lives, but he'd been so consumed by his wife's illness that the day-to-day living had fallen to Liz. She'd picked up the mantle with pride. Still did.

“I'm doing fine. It's Jillian who we need to be worried about.” She picked up their dirty dishes and carried them to the sink, hoping he'd drop this line of conversation. She could feel his gaze on her but she held her chin up and wouldn't let him see how his question affected her.

“We have a big day tomorrow,” he said. Apparently he got the hint and let the conversation die. “I'll walk you back to your room. You really do need to rest.”

He was right, of course. She did need to rest to have the strength for what was to come. At her door she asked, “Where will you be sleeping?”

“I'll be down the hall,” he said. “The other team members are right next door. You'll meet Drew and Samantha in the morning.”

She put her hand on the doorknob but paused to ask, “Why are you doing this? I mean I know it's your job, but...”

“I want Santini. He killed my friend and has evaded authorities for too long. I won't rest until he's behind bars for the rest of his life.”

She absorbed his words, understanding what drove him and appreciating that he'd shared his story with her. “I meant, letting me stay here? This seems above the call of duty.”

One corner of his mouth curved up with the barest hint of a smile before he tamed his lips back into a straight line. “I promised you I'd keep you safe. This is as safe as it gets.”

“Are you always so in control and contained?”

“That's the rumor.” This time he did smile, revealing a dimple in his cheek.

Her breath stalled. He really was handsome, even more so when he smiled. That dimple was charming. She wondered what it would be like to have his charm turned fully on her. She placed a hand over her tummy to still the flutter of attraction that wanted to take flight. “Good night, Blake.”

“Good night, Liz.”

He walked away, disappearing into a room at the end of the hallway, leaving Liz alone with only her prayers for company.

No, that wasn't exactly true. Blake would be right down the hall if she needed him.

She'd never had anyone be there for her. She was the one to take care of others, seeing to everyone else's needs before her own. It was a part of her makeup, her genetic code, or at least that was what she'd been taught in her psychology classes in college. Those personality tests pegged her as a helper and a thinker, which stood to reason why it was so hard for her to let others help her. And why she overanalyzed everything.

Seeing to her safety was Blake's job, she reasoned. He needed her to capture Santini. And she needed Blake to rescue her sister. They were helping each other.

A win, win.

But why did she have the sinking feeling that what they both wanted would come with a price?

THREE

L
iz awoke to a gray, stormy sky outside her window. Despite the ominous clouds overhead, the view from her room was as spectacular as she'd suspected.

The famed Horseshoe Falls were frozen, creating a wall of white. Though Liz knew from what she'd read about the falls when Jillian had first announced she and Travis would be eloping to Niagara and spending their honeymoon in the romantic setting, the water beneath the top layers of ice still flowed due to a steel boom ice catcher.

She wished she had a steel boom to catch Santini. The thought galvanized her to get ready for what lay ahead. Though fear threatened to sap her resolve, she had to forge forward. Her sister was counting on her. He dad was counting on her. She couldn't fail her father. She'd promised him she'd look out for Jillian. And she'd tried.

She clenched her jaw. If only Jillian had listened to her and not run off to marry Travis. But Jillian had always had a mind of her own and rarely listened to reason.

In fact she'd scoffed at Liz's attempts to keep her from making mistakes.

If I don't make mistakes then how will I learn if something is right for me or not?

Jillian's word echoed through Liz's mind. Well, hopefully, Jillian learned that Travis was a mistake, but what a painful way to learn that lesson. A lesson that had lifelong consequences. Marriage wasn't something to enter into lightly. And despite how easy it was to obtain a divorce, both Liz and Jillian had been taught that marriage was sacred, something to be honored and cherished. What was God's purpose for Jillian to marry a thief and a smuggler? A man obviously not of God.

Judge not, least ye be judged.
The line of scripture ran through her head like tickertape, reminding her that it wasn't right for her to evaluate Travis's worth.

Still, the man had knowingly committed more than one crime.

Shaking her head with exasperation, Liz selected a long tunic sweater in green over fleece-lined stretch pants tucked inside her winter boots. She was braiding her hair when she heard voices outside her room door.

Blake's deep tone she recognized. Two others, one male and the other female, she didn't recognize, but figured they were Drew and Samantha, whom Blake had mentioned last night.

After securing her long braid with a rubber band, she opened the door and entered the living room. Blake had his back to her, blocking her view of the two people with him. But then he turned around and captured her whole focus.

He'd changed into green cargo pants and a cream-colored cable knit sweater. He'd also taken the time to shave, which accentuated the planes and angles of his face. His dark hair was still damp. Liz liked the way the ends curled at his nape. Weariness rimmed his dark eyes. He gave her a quick once-over.

She caught something akin to interest in his expression, which seemed to thaw the hard coldness of his eyes just a tad more. Her heart bumped against her breastbone as attraction zinged through her veins and made her knees weak. Her mouth went dry. Confusion swirled within her brain. She never went all mushy over a man. Only heartache lay in that direction.

Watching her sister fall in love over and over again with various men through the years and then witnessing the emotional upheaval when the relationship ended had drilled home to Liz what she'd learned from watching her father after her mother's death. Love equaled pain.

Whether it was a bruised ego, as was often the case with Jillian, or a broken spirit like their father, giving one's heart away meant losing a part of oneself.

Liz had no intention of losing herself for anyone.

“Good morning.” A hint of a smile touched his lips drawing her attention. He had such a nice-shaped mouth. She batted down that errant thought. “I hope you slept well.”

She was surprised to realize she had. Knowing he was close had given her a sense of security. Physical security, that is. Certainly not emotional. If anything, he made her emotions more raw and tender. But he had protected her from danger, and she had no doubt he would again, if needed. That was his job. And he seemed to take his job ultraseriously.

“Yes, thank you.” She straightened her spine and leaned to the side to see around him. A tall, good-looking man and a pretty, blond-haired woman smiled at her. “Hello.”

Blake stepped aside. “This is Royal Canadian Mounted Police Inspector Drew Kelly and FBI liaison Samantha Kelly.”

She noted the wedding rings on their fingers. A married couple. That was unexpected. And yet comforting. Though she wasn't sure why she felt comforted by the knowledge that these two were together. Maybe it had something to do with how pretty the petite woman was?

Whoa, what did that matter? Liz wasn't in competition for Blake's attention. She wasn't interested in him in that way.

The woman thrust out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Cantrell. You can call me Sami.”

Sami's bright blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. She wore gray wool pants and a charcoal-colored sweater that set off her creamy complexion. Her golden-blond hair was clipped back at her nape. She was a beautiful woman and made Liz feel dowdy in comparison. Self-consciously, Liz pushed the end of her braid off her shoulder so that it swung out of sight behind her.

Liz shook the woman's hand, liking her directness. “Likewise. And call me Liz, please.”

“Miss Cantrell.” Drew extended his hand, as well. He was a big man with wide shoulders beneath a flannel shirt. His brown hair was shorn in a close crop and his hazel eyes regarded her with kindness and a tinge of sympathy.

Liz shook the Canadian's massive hand, then retracted her own and tucked both hands behind her back. She sent Blake a curious look.

“The Kellys will help with the sting operation,” Blake offered, apparently reading her unspoken question.

“The more hands on deck the better, right?” She was glad to know he wasn't above asking for help. Maybe he wasn't as much of a control freak as she'd first assumed.

“We'll be wiring you here rather than at the drop point.” Sami picked up a black bag from where it sat on the coffee table.

Liz swallowed back a lump of trepidation. She was going to wear a wire? Like in the movies? Were they expecting her to actually talk to Santini?

She'd assumed she'd hand the necklace over and in exchange be given her sister without much fanfare. At least none until Blake and his team swooped in and arrested Santini for kidnapping and whatever other charges Blake had in store for the man. Liz's gaze jumped to Blake. “Why am I wearing a wire?”

“The more evidence we have against Santini the better.” His impenetrable gaze dared her to challenge him. “Plus, it will give us a way to communicate with you.”

His words made sense. She appreciated “just in case” thinking. “Okay, good.”

Mild surprise flared in his eyes. Clearly he'd expected her to balk. She had to admit she got a little thrill from keeping him guessing. Which was so unlike her. She didn't play games or flirt. But for some reason she wanted to shake Blake out of his stoicism. She needed to nip that in the bud right now. He was not her concern. They would be parting ways as soon as they found her sister.

Focus on Jillian!
she silently scolded herself.

“Great,” Blake said. “Drew and I will get breakfast started while you ladies...” He waved a hand toward the bedroom Liz had vacated, clearly unsure what to say.

Sami laughed. “Wow, I've never seen you flustered, Blake. It's refreshing.”

He gave her a scowl then strode toward the kitchen.

Sami grinned and motioned for Liz to follow her back into the bedroom.

Liz was grateful to have a female attending her, which was far better than letting Blake help her. She wouldn't give in to the pull she felt for the handsome agent. She needed to keep her focus on Jillian and the danger ahead. Letting herself be distracted put Jillian, herself and everyone else in greater jeopardy.

Sami unzipped the bag and took out a thin wire with a pea-sized ball at the end. “We'll tape this to your chest. It will record any conversation and allow us to hear what's going on. You'll be given an ear piece so you can hear Blake's instructions.” She smiled. “And don't worry, the tape comes off easily without taking any skin.”

“Good to know.” The whole situation seemed so surreal. Here she was being wired by an FBI agent in an attempt to trap a crime boss and rescue her sister from his evil clutches. It was almost as if she'd stepped into an action flick or one of her favorite author's crime novels. “How long have you been with the FBI?”

“I was accepted into the academy right after college,” Sami replied. “I'd majored in criminal justice so I made a good candidate for the bureau.”

“Blake had said you're a liaison?”

“Actually an assistant to the legal attaché, but since Drew was coming to help Blake, I convinced my boss to let me offer support since this involves both of our countries plus Venezuela.”

“How long have you two been married?”

A tender smile touched Sami's lips. “Almost six months.”

A strange ache in the vicinity of her heart made Liz look away. She didn't understand what she was feeling. Envy? But she'd never experienced envy when her college friends married one after the other until she was the last one still single. It didn't make sense now. She chalked up the odd sensation to nerves and fear. The situation she found herself in would wreak havoc on anyone's emotions.

“How did you meet?” Liz asked to keep her mind off what she was feeling inside.

Sami's hands stilled for a moment. “I was hunting a serial killer who murdered my childhood best friend. I was determined to solve her murder and discovered that her killer had killed before on both sides of the northern border. When the man I was tracking crossed into Drew's jurisdiction, our agencies allowed us to form a joint investigation. I dubbed the killer ‘Birdman' because of the bird symbol on the clue he left at each crime scene.”

Liz gaped at the woman, not even sure what to say. Sympathy for Sami's loss crowded Liz's chest. She couldn't imagine what that sort of job would entail and wasn't she sure wanted to know any more details. “Did you catch him?”

A look of triumph crossed Sami's face. “We did, but it wasn't easy.”

Liz stifled a shiver. “It must be hard with you both having such demanding and...risky careers.”

Sami cocked her head. “Some days, but I wouldn't trade even one day of my life with Drew for a million without him. I took the job with the legal attaché so that I could live in Vancouver, British Columbia, with Drew. After our wedding, we bought a house where someday we'll raise our kids. We're careful when we're out in the field and are grateful for every day we have together because we know how easily and quickly life can spin out of control. God willing, we'll grow old and reminisce about our adventures to our grandchildren and great-grandchildren.” She scrunched up her nose. “We'll leave the details out.”

Again, that bizarre twinge made Liz's chest hurt beneath the spot where Sami patted down the tape over the little microphone. “Jillian wanted to start a family, but now...” She pressed her lips together for a second as a wave of anger washed over her. “Travis wasn't such a great catch.”

“I'm sorry your sister was taken by Santini.” Sami stepped back to let Liz dress. “But we'll get her back.”

“I'm counting on it,” Liz replied. “Blake convinced me to trust him.” She let out a rough scoff. “Or rather threatened me with jail if I didn't.”

“He's all talk.”

“I don't know.” She remembered the intense way he'd stared her down in the interrogation room. “He seemed pretty serious about it.”

“That's just his way. Though I'll admit he can be intimidating,” Sami agreed. “However, once he relaxes a bit, he's not so bad.”

“He relaxes?” Liz couldn't imagine it. The man appeared so buttoned down and rigid. But that brief smile earlier lingered in her mind. She'd like to see him fully smile again. To hear him laugh. Would he have a deep laugh? She couldn't imagine him laughing. “That I'd like to see.”

Her breath caught on the admission. No, she wouldn't, she silently scolded herself. She wanted this situation over and done with so she never had to see Blake or the inside of an interrogation room again.

She wanted to go back to her quiet life on Hilton Head Island, back to the store and her own home with her sister where the only excitement she had to contend with were the tourists who came during the warmer seasons or the storms that blew through off the Atlantic.

Liz and Sami left the bedroom and joined the same Canada Border Services officer Liz had met last night at the dining table. Nathanial Longhorn stood and hurried around the table to pull out Liz's chair. “Miss Cantrell, you're looking lovely.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, appreciating his manners and his compliment though she knew he was only being polite.

He sat across from her, leaving the chair next to her open for Blake who carried over a platter stacked with pancakes.

“Here ya'll go. Dig in,” Blake said, setting the platter of steaming warm cakes on the table next to the carafe of coffee and a pitcher of orange juice.

Drew brought over a plate piled with link sausages, offering them to his wife first. Sami's adoring smile brought a lump to Liz's throat.

Blake sat down beside her, bumping her knee as he did. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” She adjusted her legs away from him and rubbed at the spot on her knee that felt branded by the accidental touch.

As they ate they discussed the details of the plan. By the time their appetites were sated, Liz had the particulars of her part of the plan memorized though she'd had to argue a few points. She'd enter the fort alone—Blake had wanted to accompany her but she'd argued Santini probably knew who Blake was and would recognize him. Blake conceded the point.