Seducing the Accomplice (9 page)

A lead had been planted to throw them off and he hadn’t believed her when she’d figured it out. She’d been right. He’d been wrong. Now she was dead and he’d never be able to apologize.

The look on Calan’s face when he’d left for his shower was still putting a crushing weight on her chest. Sadie stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Last night he hadn’t misled her over where this was headed. He’d confessed he couldn’t make promises. But he’d also said what happened meant something. It did. She believed that. But it didn’t mean enough. Physical attraction wasn’t the only ingredient in a relationship.

“You have to stop being so stupid,” she told her sad reflection.

Once again, she was glad her dad was never going to find out about this.

Disgusted, she got in the shower and let the spray hit her back. The morning after their magical night, Calan woke up thinking about the women he’d been with who’d died. It was plain on his face. She didn’t have to be telepathic to know that. There was regret in his eyes. Regret and deep, gouging pain that comes with the loss of a loved one. His heart belonged to another. When it came time to go home, she’d never see him again.

She stomped her foot with a splashy thump.

Getting out of the shower, she dried off. Now she’d have to go and face Calan. What if another situation arose that led to a repeat of last night? Would he want her to accommodate him again before this adventure was over? Would she have the wherewithal to stop him?

The more she ruminated over it, the angrier she became. After dressing, she went back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

A loud crash made her jump. Glass shattering. She spun around in time to see two men with guns rush into her room. She screamed. Both were big men wearing black. One wore a hat. He hung back as the other man approached the bathroom, pointing a gun at her.

Sadie backed up against the bathroom vanity, frantically searching for an escape. Where could she go? What could she do? She was trapped.

The man charged forward, grabbing her by her elbow and yanking her out of the bathroom. She struggled to wrench free, but he jerked her toward him and looped his arm around her waist. She searched for some kind of weapon. Nothing was in reach. Then the man pressed his gun to her head. She stopped breathing and went still.

He hissed something in a language she didn’t understand and then in English, “Do not move.”

She didn’t fight him, too aware of the hard, cold metal of the gun against her temple. That’s when she saw Calan standing in the threshold of the room, aiming his gun at the man in the hat. His eyes shifted from her and the man who held her to the man in the hat.

She didn’t want to die. Not yet. And not like this.

Calan walked toward them.

“Stop,” the man in the hat said, his voice heavily accented.

Taking two more steps closer, Calan stopped, meeting Sadie’s eyes. Was he gauging her, measuring her fear? She hoped he could tell that it was soaring. Or was he sending her some kind of message? What was he going to do? He had to know she was no good at this.

“Drop your weapon,” the man in the hat said.

Calan looked at him. “Who are you?”

“Drop it, Mr. Friese.”

They knew his name. His ties to Dharr had given that away. Calan didn’t respond. His aim remained steady. If he fired his gun, the man in the hat would be shot. But the man holding her would get a shot off, too.

“I don’t think I need to explain to you the consequences if you don’t,” the man in the hat added.

“Who are you? How did you find us?”

The man in the hat smiled without humor. He didn’t have to answer, but he did. “It pays to have business acquaintances. We know many in the area. You were seen at the Afrodita Boutique. From there, it was easy.”

It was already obvious that they were well-connected, but all the way into Montenegro? Just how far did their tentacles go?

“Tell me where the money is or she dies.”

“Sorry. I can’t do that.”

The man’s face hardened and he turned to her and the man who held her. Sadie saw Calan move his aim and felt his gaze pass hers to meet the man’s who held her. Was he going to try a shot like that? It was too close! Oh, God. She was going to be killed!

“Calan!” she all but screamed.

“Kill her,” the man in the hat said.

Sadie screamed, “No!” as Calan fired his weapon. The man holding her dropped, dragging her down with him. Another gunshot went off as she landed on top of the man and she realized it had been his gun. She didn’t think she’d been hit. She didn’t feel anything anyway. On her hands and knees over the man’s limp form, Sadie came face to face with a dark red hole in his forehead and dead eyes staring at nothingness.

She screamed again, gutturally this time. Bile rose in her throat, made sicker by her heavy, horrified pulse. Scrambling off the dead man, she crawled backward like a crab, falling on her rear. Calan and the man in the hat were locked like wrestlers. She scooted out of the way when their brawling feet almost mowed her over. Calan broke his arms free and hit the man with the handle of his gun. The other man’s hat went flying and he staggered back. But he managed to unsteadily swing his gun around.

Using that to his advantage, Calan chopped the man’s wrist with an upward movement of his hand. The man still held his weapon. Calan jabbed his throat with the side of his hand before he could recover. The man doubled over and Calan rammed his knee upward, gripping the man’s gun hand and squeezing. The man went to his knees. Calan pressed his gun to the man’s forehead.

The man let go of his gun and Calan kicked it across the floor toward Sadie. Automatically, she lifted the gun. Standing, she aimed it and hoped she appeared threatening.

Calan banged the barrel of his gun against the man’s head.

“Who sent you?”

The man looked up at Calan with feral eyes, blood oozing from his nose and a cut on his lower lip.

“Who?” Calan repeated.

Sadie backed toward the door and stopped when she felt she was far enough away and close enough to the door to escape if she needed to.

“Kill me, more will follow,” the man said, spitting blood onto the floor.

“Who sent you?”

The man continued to stare up at him in that eerie way. “Give me the money and no one else will come for you. It will end here. Now.”

“No deal. Who sent you?”

After a momentary stare-down, the man dropped into a low roll. Springing to his feet from a crouch, he reached under the hem of his pant leg at the same time and his hand came up with a knife.

Calan fired.

The unexpectedness of it gave Sadie a jolt. Dropping the gun, she covered her mouth with a gag, looking away as a hole similar to the one in the other man appeared in the man’s forehead.

Unaffected, Calan knelt before the man and began searching his clothes. He pulled something out, a business card. Next came a cell phone.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore, Sadie headed for the front door. She couldn’t stay here anymore. She had to get away from all this violence. From the death. But most of all, from Calan. Facing his troubled past was one thing, but this was the final straw. Seeing those men killed had pushed her over the edge.

At the villa door, she grabbed the door handle and yanked. It didn’t budge. She yanked and yanked and then realized the door was locked.

With shaking fingers, she unlocked the bolt.

Opening the door, it slammed shut before there was more than an inch or two of space. Turning, she leaned her back against the door and met Calan’s intense face. His hand was still on the door above her head and she got a flash of déjà vu.

He’d done this at the hotel in Tirana, too. He wasn’t going to let her go.

“Calan…”

All he did was shake his head.

There was no point in arguing with him, so she didn’t. Not now. But when the right moment came, she was out of here.

Chapter 6

S
adie watched the streets of Budva pass by her passenger window. The sound of tires and air friction mixed with Calan’s voice as he told Odie about the two men who’d broken into their villa this morning. Odie was asking a lot of questions.

“One had a business card with the name Gjergj Zhafa and an address in Tirana.” Another pause ensued as the mysterious Odie grilled him again.

“A shop owner told him we stopped in his store,” he said. “Whoever we’re dealing with has a lot of friends. Will you get me what you can on Zhafa?” He paused. “Thanks, I appreciate that. I’ll call you with status as soon as I have some thing.”

He ended the call.

“Why do you keep calling her?” Was she his boss or something? “What is she, some kind of spy? Is that what you are?”

“She does intel.”

Of course. Intel. And his answer was as brief as ever. “Must be some organization you work for.”

“It has its freedoms.”

Wouldn’t he be free to go after terrorists on his own? Why did he need this organization? Protection? Secrecy? She decided to try and get him to talk more. “I thought it didn’t exist.”

“It doesn’t.”

He pulled to a stop near the boutique where they’d stopped yesterday. “Wait here.”

Sadie glanced around the street. This could be a good opportunity to make her escape. There were ferries that left from Bar, which was down the coast from Budva, but she’d have to find her way there.

She looked over at the keys still in the ignition and then at him. He didn’t have anything with him. If she drove off after he went inside, he’d be left here with nothing but a lot of dangerous men after him. He did have a gun…

Just when she began wondering where his passport was, he said, “On second thought, why don’t you come with me.”

She saw the way he was looking at her. She’d given away her thoughts. He’d seen her eyeing the keys. Getting out of the car, he walked around to the other side and opened her door.

“Come on.”

“But…”

“Sadie, just come with me.”

Reluctantly, she climbed out of the car. He slammed the door and she caught his reprimanding look. Ignoring that, she walked with him toward the narrow stone passageway that led to the boutique. The first time she’d walked this way, she’d enjoyed the sights. But even surrounded by pristine white stone architecture and Mediterranean red roofs, everything seemed darkly gothic to her now, like the set of a horror film.

“Stay close to me,” he said.

As if he’d let her go anywhere else…

At the door of the boutique, Sadie saw there were lights on inside. Calan tested the handle and found it unlocked. From inside, exotic music sounded eerie in the otherwise-empty shop. He glanced at her and she saw his concern. It was still pretty early and the boutique shouldn’t be open for a few more hours.

With another scan of the street, Calan entered and pulled out his gun. She stayed on his heels as he walked through the shop, jam packed with clothes and accessories. He checked the aisles and behind the checkout counter.

Sadie saw a door leading to the back at the same time he did. There was a light on back there, too, and the door was cracked open. She put her hand on his back as he approached the door, heart hammering.

Calan stopped and looked back at her as if the touch had distracted him. She dropped her hand.

He moved for the door again. There, he pushed it open a little bit farther and stilled. She saw what had made him stop so abruptly. He faced her and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back. But it was too late to keep her from seeing a man slumped in a chair with his arms tied behind the back. He was covered in blood and more pooled on the floor.

She fought a gag and put her face against Calan’s chest. “No more. No more.” She couldn’t stand it.

He curved an arm around her. “Time to go. I don’t want to be caught here.”

No kidding. Outside of the boutique, he opened the car door for her and she got in, putting her hand over her queasy stomach. Calan drove the car into the street.

“Why did they kill that man?” Three dead bodies in one morning was too much for her to endure. The images would be stuck with her forever.

“Maybe they thought he knew more than he did.”

“About you?”

He hesitated. “Us.”

She really wished he wouldn’t say that. “How did they find us? That man didn’t know, so why kill him? He was innocent.”

“Maybe because he did business with us. Maybe because he couldn’t tell them where we were staying. Who knows.”

They killed because they could. She shuddered to think what kind of organization had that kind of ruthless power.
Someone must have seen us go into the boutique.
They were in Montenegro and still someone had recognized them.

“How did they find us at the villa?”

“I don’t know. The shop owner may have given those men a description of our car. They may have had a lot of help asking around.”

A lot of help…

How could Calan expect to be able to do anything against a group like that? He was outnumbered, for one thing. And these men were dangerous. It was too much.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” And for the first time, she really meant it.

At the desperate tone of her voice, Calan turned his head briefly.

“I want to go home.”

“I’m sorry, Sadie. It’s too late for that.”

“You should have left me at the hotel in Tirana. I would have been fine. Guns and blood and people dying in front of your eyes might be nothing new to you, but it is for me. I can’t do this!”

His mouth tightened and his jaw flexed. He didn’t look at her, but his brow had lowered. She could feel his frustration. He didn’t want to make her be here, but he felt he had to. She understood he had a good reason, but he had to see her side of it. Her side of it mattered. It was time for him to start facing that. It was time for him to start facing the fact that it was his past that influenced his actions when it came to her.

“Do you think I want another woman I’ve slept with to end up dead?” he finally said.

No, of course he wouldn’t, but he might not be able to prevent it. A second later she realized the way he’d said that sounded as if he cared, more than she thought. It made her wonder if there was hope for them after they returned to the States.

“Please try to trust me a little,” he continued.

She didn’t answer because she wasn’t sure she’d be wise to trust him. He may have good intentions, but those intentions might get her killed. Glancing over at him, taking in how clean-cut he looked in his short-sleeved white and thin, blue-striped, button-up shirt for what must be the hundredth time since they’d left the villa, she despaired. She didn’t trust herself, either.

Sadie spotted the port as they entered Bar, Montenegro. She waited until after they passed before asking, “Can we stop somewhere so I can use a bathroom?”

He looked over at her as if trying to determine if she was going to try to run again. Of course he’d seen the port. He knew it was there. But he said, “Sure,” and drove down the road until a gas station came into view.

It was an interesting gas station, with only a couple of old pumps and a building that functioned as both gas station and a restaurant. Pulling in front of the building, Calan got out with her. She’d expected that. But instead of following her inside, he leaned against the driver’s door and waited. Watching her all the way. He didn’t comment on the fact that she’d taken her newly purchased handbag.

She entered the station. An attendant helped a customer at a small counter on one side of the store. On the other, and taking up most of the room, was a small restaurant. Straight back and nearest the counter, she spotted a single door down a hall. Passing a clerk who was still busy with the customer, she walked to the hall. At what must be the bathroom, she stopped. Down the hall was a back room. She looked behind her. The clerk had finished with the customer but had turned his back. She couldn’t see Calan through the windows. The corner of the hall blocked her view.

Opening the door to the bathroom in case he could see the top frame, she closed it again without entering. Then she walked briskly down the hall. In the back room, a door was propped open as if to let the air in.

She left the building and looked around. Rundown houses backed to the station and other buildings along the road where she and Calan had driven. Running down the dirt alley, she made it to another busy street and started searching for a cab, searching also for any sign of Calan. It wouldn’t take him long to start looking for her.

Minutes later she spotted a marked taxi and held up her hand. The driver pulled over. She got in and told him where to take her. Thankfully, he understood her English and she didn’t negotiate the fare, just agreed on his price. A quick check through the rear window showed no sign of Calan.

She breathed a sigh and sat back for the short trip to the port.

After paying the taxi driver, she headed for ticketing on one of the ferry lines. Shortly thereafter, she discovered the soonest she’d be able to board was two days from now. Everything in her sank like an anchor. So much for planning her escape. She should have thought of that. Clearly, she needed more practice at this.

Feeling a good pout settle in, she found a seat on a bench near the entrance and waited for Calan…because she knew he’d be here soon. She didn’t have to worry about that. She wouldn’t spend much time here alone, and she wouldn’t be stranded in Montenegro. She could depend on him for that.

A big, tall man entered the building. He was silhouetted against the light coming through the glass behind him, but she didn’t have to see him in living detail to recognize him. She wasn’t expecting him to be this fast.

He strolled toward her calm as could be. She hadn’t been sitting five minutes. Even if there had been a ferry she could have caught, she doubted she would have made it on board. His long strides were unhurried and his eyes were hidden by sunglasses. But his mouth was in a familiar hard line as before and the way he moved would make anyone steer clear of him.

He stopped in front of her and just looked down at her, his head angled ever so slightly. She felt his angry smugness and a silent “Really?” all but hung in the air between them.

Sadie rolled her eyes and stood. “Don’t say it.” She started walking toward the exit.

He walked beside her. “First rule when trying to escape someone— Never tell them your plans.”

Yes, she’d already recalled how she’d asked him to take her to the ferry, and she could kick herself for that as much as not checking ferry schedules first.

“Second rule— Always have a credit card that matches your false identification.”

She hadn’t even thought of that. She had cash for the ferry but not enough to buy a plane ticket. Feeling like an idiot, she said in her defense, “Well, it wasn’t my choice to be dragged into this situation. I don’t have the experience you do at this, and everywhere we go somebody ends up dead.”

“Better them than us,” he said.

She stopped and put her hands on her hips, getting mad now. “It could be us.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“You see? Even you aren’t sure.”

“Did you think you could just hop on a ferry and be sailing within the hour?” he asked.

It grated on her that he was rubbing that in.

“What were you going to do? Wait a few days? Where would you have gone?”

“I waited for you.”

That made him hesitate. Now he knew she’d been well aware that he’d come for her and that it wouldn’t take him long to find her.

“Guess I’ll have to be more careful next time,” she added.

“Don’t waste your time, sweetheart.”

His cocky sureness offended her. Didn’t he think she could get away from him? Maybe she’d have to show him otherwise. She may have spoken before thinking and not planned ahead, but she knew better now. She had a good teacher.

When Calan pulled to a stop behind the short line of cars waiting to cross into Albania, Sadie was more nervous than ever. Not only was she using her fake passport again, she was going back to Albania, where people wanted them dead.

The line moved forward. So far the border officers hadn’t held anyone up, despite the fact that border traffic wasn’t busy today. There was only one car in front of the customs building.

A cyclist rode away from the booth after he was cleared and the car in front of them was next. The border officer inside the booth reached for papers the driver extended to him. Sadie looked around. Another border officer leaned against the stone siding of the customs building, smoking a cigarette. Another straightened from the window of the car that was parked there. The man inside backed away and drove toward the border patrol booth. All clear.

The customs building wasn’t very big, one story high and maybe a hundred feet long. It had seemed bigger the first time she’d seen it, probably because she’d been so scared then. She was scared now, too, but having experienced crossing once before seemed to have desensitized her a little.

Calan pulled forward. It was their turn.

The officer took their passports and studied them.

“One moment,” he said in accented English, turning with their passports and bending over a rear counter, looking at something there.

Sadie’s heart sped up. It didn’t help that Calan looked at her and she saw his concern. He wasn’t so sure this time, not knowing how far-reaching Dharr’s business associates were.

When the officer faced them again, he said, “Wait over there.”

Not good. What had he checked? Was this another useless delay or had their names shown up on someone’s radar?

Another officer, this one armed, waved them toward the customs building. Calan parked in front of it, not far from the entrance, and the officer who’d checked out the other car with the man inside approached. The armed officer handed him their passports. He looked at them and then bent to Calan’s open window, glancing briefly over at Sadie. This time there was no interest in her legs. She’d worn jeans and a white T-shirt tucked in at the waist. Nothing feminine. Not that it would have worked anyway.