Hidden Agenda (27 page)

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Authors: Lisa Harris

Tags: #FIC042060, #FIC042040, #FIC027110

BOOK: Hidden Agenda
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29

I
van stared at the bomb, an organized jumble of cylinders, wires, and a timer in the open silver case, counting down its destruction.

Three hours. Forty-five minutes. Thirteen seconds.

Twelve.

Eleven.

Ten.

Ivan forced himself to look away from the table where the bomb sat next to the floral drapes hanging over the closed window of the hotel room. His sister was out there somewhere looking for him. Worried about him like she always was. And this time, she had every reason to worry. Because that bomb marked the inevitable countdown to his death.

Unless he could find a way out.

Fear had brought with it a steady trickle of adrenaline dripping through his veins, urging him to run. But with his hands tied behind him, a gag in his mouth, and a D
O
N
OT
D
ISTURB
sign posted on the outside of the hotel door, his captors had guaranteed there was no way to escape and nowhere to run.

The only good thing was that Scarecrow and the Tin Man had continued to talk in front of him, blissfully unaware that he was following their conversation. If Michael and Avery could locate
him in time, they would need information. Anything he could discover might be the clue they needed to put an end to this.

He kept his head down as the men finished up room service. Hoping they'd continue to believe the falsehood that he wasn't interested in their conversation. Their discussion switched from the room service menu to the upcoming NFL playoffs, like sitting in a hotel room with a bomb and a hostage was just another ordinary day.

Scarecrow swung his legs down from the desk, grabbed his empty coffee cup, and slam-dunked it into the metal trash can. “Have you heard from the boss?”

Ivan leaned forward, intent on not missing any of the conversation. He waited for Tin Man's response, but the man was turned away from him.

Ivan felt his lungs tighten as he held his breath.
Turn around . . . turn around . . .

Tin Man turned back to the bomb and carefully closed the lid. “Everything's on schedule. We leave the bomb downstairs. And the boy, we'll leave alive . . . for now.”

Scarecrow's grin broadened. “As soon as we get our hands on that list, every dirty cop across the city will be forced to change loyalties.”

Ivan focused on the Tin Man's lips, careful to keep any hint of interest off his face. No interest at all in the game playing out in front of him.

Tin Man turned to Ivan as they headed toward the door. “I hope you'll be . . . comfortable while we're gone.”

Ivan watched as the hotel door slammed behind them. He needed a plan. Because when the bomb went off, everyone in the vicinity of the blast would die.

30

O
livia reread the email from her father on the laptop Avery had loaned her. Antonio Valez, money launderer and cartel leader wannabe, wanted to see her. She heard a soft knock on the bedroom door. She called out, “Come in,” and looked up as Michael entered the room. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. I thought you were supposed to be sleeping.”

“I tried.” Sleep had become elusive as her jumbled thoughts tried to put the pieces together. Trying to find resolution from her past.

“Emily said she had some sleeping pills you could take.”

“I'm fine for now. I'm not sure I want to sleep. Any updates on Ivan?”

“Nothing yet, but this is far from over.”

“I know. What's happening out there?” She'd come back exhausted from the bank where they'd retrieved Felipe's list. Now she was hoping that something they found would lead them to Ivan.

“Tory's arranged to move you to a safe house. We'll be ready to leave in the next fifteen to twenty minutes.”

“What about Felipe?”

“He was telling the truth about the list. They're working on getting arrest warrants. The fallout is going to be significant.”

“What happens to him now?”

“Turning over the list won't save him from prison, Olivia.”

“I know. And my father?”

“Avery's team was able to track down Rebecca's contact. He hasn't said much yet, but we believe Salazar was using him to pass on information to her to manipulate the situation as he moves in to take over the territory. He also confirmed that Salazar is planning to kill your father, who, it appears, has gone into hiding.” He sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, where she clutched her phone. “What is it?”

She hesitated, unsure of how much she wanted to tell him. “I checked my email. There was a message from my father.”

“Your father?” Michael frowned as he glanced at the computer.

“Said he needs to meet with me.” She looked up at Michael. “I need to call him and arrange to see him.”

Michael grasped her hand. “It's too risky. You need to be somewhere safe.”

“I need to talk with him. What if he knows where Ivan is?”

“What if it's a trap?” he countered.

Olivia pulled away from his touch, her mind spinning with the possible implications. “Even after all that's happened, even after knowing the truth about who he is, I still don't believe he would hurt either of us. And I don't believe he's the one who took Ivan. I think his life is in danger.”

“You might be right about every single bit of that, but even if he didn't take Ivan, that doesn't mean you can trust him.”

Olivia's gaze dropped. “After I meet with him, you can bring him in.”

Michael nodded. “I'll give you a phone to use. We'll be able to make it look as if the call is coming from your phone, and we'll trace his cell.”

Two minutes later, Avery gave her the go-ahead from the
middle of the hotel room, and Olivia dialed her father's number. He answered on the fourth ring.

“Olivia?”

“Yeah. It's me.”

He paused. “I . . . I wasn't sure you'd call. I'm worried about you. I got to the island, and they said you'd left. I know I missed Christmas, but—”

“It's okay. I'm sorry we missed you.” She licked her lips, wondering how long he was going to keep lying to her. When the deception was going to end.

“We need to talk,” her father continued.

Olivia tapped the speakerphone function and glanced at Michael. She wasn't sure what to say. Wasn't sure what she wanted. She didn't want to believe he'd hurt her or Ivan, but how could she trust him?

“I'm listening.” Olivia pushed through the pain of knowing this man on the phone wasn't the person she'd always believed him to be.

“I heard about Ivan.”

“How?”

“I received a phone call about thirty minutes ago.”

“A ransom demand?”

“There were no demands. At least no financial demands.”

“What do they want?”

“I'll tell you everything, but we need to meet. In person.”

Michael shook his head. She hesitated, knowing he was probably right. But she also knew that she wanted—needed—to give her father a chance to explain. A part of her was still holding on to the possibility that maybe . . . just maybe . . . things weren't as they appeared. But even more than that, she needed to find Ivan.

“Olivia?”

Her legs were suddenly weak, and she sat down on the edge of the couch, praying, weighing her options.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“I'm on my way to Atlanta now.”

“I don't know—”

“Please, Olivia. There are things I need to tell you.”

“About your involvement with the cartel? Isn't that what this is all about?”

“This isn't a conversation I can have over the phone.”

“Apparently, it's not a conversation you're able to have, period.”

For a moment she was ten years old again. Trying to gain her father's approval. Standing at the boat dock, waiting for him to arrive. Opening up another monthly check with the hope he might have included a personal note.

But how was he supposed to have told her?
Would you mind passing the mashed
potatoes, and by the way, in case you were wondering,
the real-estate business is just a sideshow. I'm
actually laundering money for the local cartel.

“I don't see what's complicated,” she continued. “You've lied to me all these years and now, because of those lies, Ivan's life is in danger.” She caught her breath. “Do you know who has him?”

“Not yet, but I can't talk about it over the phone.” There was a long pause on the line. “Are you with Michael?”

Olivia looked at Michael. “Yes.”

“Ivan's life is at stake here, Olivia, but I need your help. No cops, or they'll kill him. You have to come alone.”

Tears formed pools in her eyes. This couldn't be happening. “What time will you get here?”

“I'll call you in an hour with further details.”

It was crazy how badly one part of her wanted to see him while the rest of her wanted only to run. There was no way she could know if it was safe.

“I'll wait for your call,” she said.

“Olivia.” Michael spoke as soon as she hung up the call. “You're not—”

“Don't.” She set the phone down on the table. “I have to see him.”

“No, you don't.” Michael turned to his sister. “Avery, back me up here.”

“This is my decision,” Olivia said.

“She's right, Michael.” She turned to Olivia. “We can do everything we can to protect you, but—”

“You heard what he said.” She wasn't doing anything that could jeopardize Ivan's life. “No cops. I won't risk it. Do whatever you want, but not until after we talk, and I find out what he knows about Ivan.”

Michael sat down on the couch beside her and took her hand. “What if it's a trap?”

“I'll have to take that risk, but I don't think he's planning to kill me. I'm sure he's got an assassin or two on the payroll that could take care of a little issue like a daughter who's in the way. That wasn't why he called.”

“He's lied to you his entire life, Olivia. Manipulating everyone around him. I know. I worked with him and saw firsthand what he's capable of doing.”

“You don't get it, do you?” Olivia pulled her hand from his and pressed her fingers against her temples. “Everything important to me has turned out to be nothing more than a bunch of lies. I need some kind of explanation that only he can give me.”

“I'm sorry, Olivia . . . I really am. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

“Why?” She pointed to his sisters and father across the room watching the scene play out. “Because you have the perfect family?”

“Don't make me out to be the bad guy.”

Anger bubbled inside her. Maybe it wasn't his fault the Hunts were the model for the perfect southern family. “Just stating facts, like you are.”

Michael let out a sharp huff, echoing her own frustration. “You can ask my mother about perfection. I'm sure she'd be happy to give you a long list of my flaws.”

Like my short fuse,
for one.

Michael closed his mouth, feeling his defenses drop. He could see the determination in Olivia's eyes, but more than that, he could see the hurt. He'd pushed too hard in trying to protect her.

He fumbled for what to say. “I'm sorry. I just don't want to see you hurt.”

She got up and strode to the door leading to the hallway and flung it open. “I've got to get some air.”

“Olivia . . .”

He started toward the door.

“Let her go for now, Michael.”

He turned back to his sister. “But—”

“She won't go far.” Avery nodded at Mason to follow Olivia and keep an eye on her. “I know you're worried about her, but you can't fix everything. She's lost a lot these past few days. She's going to need time and space to work through this.”

“And if Valez's intentions aren't on the up-and-up?”

“I just wouldn't be so quick to dismiss her going ahead with this.” Avery nodded toward the kitchen. “Come on. I could use a cup of coffee, and I have a feeling you could too.”

Michael hesitated, then followed his sister into the kitchen, still torn between his desire to run after Olivia and try to make everything right or Avery's advice to back off. This was why he never let his heart get involved in a case. Why he needed to step away emotionally before he got pulled in any further.

Avery filled the coffeemaker with water and flipped it on. “She's stronger than you think.”

“Maybe, but that's not the issue.”

“Then what is the issue?”

“I just believe . . . it's too dangerous for her to be out there. I've worked with Valez for months. I know the kind of man he is. My job was to collect enough evidence to put him and as many as I could in prison—”

“I understand that, but there's more here. Your heart's involved.”

Michael grabbed two mugs from the shelf. “I'm an undercover cop, Avery. I know how to work a case without getting my emotions involved.”

“Really?”

“And even if there is . . . something . . . between us, I'm not letting it cloud my judgment.”

Avery folded her arms across her chest, clearly not buying his excuses.

“I don't even know if what is there has a chance of going anywhere.” He fumbled with his excuses. “I haven't even known her for a week.”

“Does it matter? We all have concerns when it comes to relationships. For me, it was the fear of what a relationship would require of me. I wasn't sure I was able to give Jackson a chance.”

“So you're saying what . . . that I'm scared?”

“Of a girl?” Avery laughed. “Yeah. Pretty much. Admit you like her and it'll make your life a heck of a lot easier.” She turned around and leaned against the counter, facing him. “But you also need to admit that she can handle this. She's strong. Stop trying to protect her from every possible complication that might arise, and give her some credit.”

Michael grabbed a couple of spoons and stuck them in the mugs. “I still don't think it's a good idea for her to meet with
her father. This is your chance to go in there with your team and arrest him.”

“What if he knows where Ivan is? Or has information regarding his captors?”

Michael leaned back against the counter, feeling as if all of his options were going to get someone else hurt.

“You know, little brother, you've spent most of your career working the tough cases. Undercover, risking your life . . . Have you ever thought about quitting and putting yourself first for a change?”

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