Nowhere To Run (To Protect And Serve) (23 page)

Simon
e’s house wasn’t easy to find in the pitch dark surrounding her. A row of Victorian houses lined Gold Street. The mailbox outside Number Three didn’t bear a name, but the peeling blue paint on the house stood out even without any moonlight.

Jordan stepped onto the porch
and peered through the window looking for some form of light within. Waking the woman in the middle of the night wasn’t going to be the best way to introduce herself.

She gave the weathered
yellow door a hesitant knock. While she waited, Jordan glanced around the porch. It was neat and clean, but showing definite signs of wear.

Fear and uncertainty threatened
once more when nothing but silence appeared within the house. Jordan knocked harder, refusing to give into those fears.

“Alright, alright. I’m c
omin’.” A voice thick with accent bellowed deep from within the bowls of the house. “Now who be interruptin’ my program this fine evening?” The porch light flickered on followed by several more inside as the door flew open and a woman wearing a lemon yellow nightgown with curlers bunched around salt and pepper hair looked surprised to see Jordan standing on her porch.

Dark c
aramel eyes surveyed Jordan from her dark blue hospital scrubs to her blonde hair.

“Well now. Bless you child, what on earth are you doing here
at this time of the night? Are you lost?”

Jordan squared her shoulders.
“No. I’m sorry to bother you so late. I’m not lost.” For the first time, Jordan considered what to tell the woman. Her appearance -- no matter who sent her -- would have to come across as suspicious to just about anyone. “Polk sent me. I need someplace to stay for the night. He said you could help me.” She held her breath and wondered how she could ever convince the woman to let a perfect stranger inside her home. Especially one who arrived at her door in the middle of the night.

***

Riley waited at the hospital until he couldn’t sit still any longer. He’d wanted to believe she just needed time alone to walk off her temper. But he was wrong. She wasn’t coming back. She meant exactly what she’d said. If he didn’t find her soon Santiago would.

He went back to the villa and forced the door open. Upon first glance, the place looked almost the same. Nothing appeared to be disturbed.
He opened the bedroom closet. Most of her clothes were missing.

Panic hit hard.
He tried to think coherently, but his thoughts were all over the board.

“
Dammit.” Her first move would no doubt be to find a way off the island without calling attention to herself. He was willing to bet she’d steer as far away as possible from the abandoned piers where he’d told her they were to meet Frank’s contact. Which left the piers north of town.

He grabbed
his map of the surrounding islands and a flashlight and headed out.             

Nothing stirred on the waters north of the city.
There counted some dozen or more boats docked along the pier. All the slips were full with the exception of one.

He had no idea where she’d gone
. But he was banking on it being one of the islands close by. Riley found a quiet secluded spot and searched the map. The grid lines swam before his tired eyes. Shit. She could have chosen any of them.

From a distance
, the steadying humming of a diesel engine drew his attention away from the map. He flipped off the light and listened. It was coming from the ocean.

It took another
fifteen minutes before the dilapidated boat appeared on the horizon. It looked as if any strong wind would send it to Davy Jones’ locker.

Riley waited until the boat
had docked before approaching its owner.

He could tell his sudden appearance in the middle of the light
had startled the man. Riley flashed his badge hoping the old guy wouldn’t look too close.

“What do you want?” The man tossed the line for Riley to secure.

“You took a woman out tonight.” He posed it in the form of a statement. The man turned away and began stowing his gear. A sure sign he knew something.

“Don’t
know what you’re talking about, sonny. Took the boat out to test some engine repairs.”

“Cut the crap
, buddy. I need to know where you took her.”

“Like I said
, you got the wrong skipper.”

Riley blew out a frustrated sigh. “Look she’s in danger. I’m a homicide detective from New York. I’m investigating her brother’s death.” Silence met this admission where normally people showed some
form of emotion. Shock. Repulsion. Curiosity.
Something.
“I need to know where she’s at. Her life’s in danger.”

“And I need a new line of work. I guess we both got things we need.”
The old guy didn’t bother looking at Riley.

Riley didn’t wait for an invitation to board. He heaved his six
-foot frame over the bow much to the man’s surprise. “The same person who killed her brother is going to do the same to her if you don’t tell me where you took her right now.” The skipper seemed unmoved by his confession. He continued stowing gear.

Riley
was probably on a short list of people Jordan wanted to see right now, but still he knew if he didn’t find her soon, Santiago and his goons would.

“I know she told you no
t to tell anyone, but do you really want to be responsible for her life? Or death?” That at least elicited a quick hiccup in the old guy’s steady motion of stowing gear.

“Look, time is running out. They’ll be here while you’re thinking about
doing the right thing. Just tell me.”

The
grizzled captain pinned him with a piercing glower. For a long time Riley doubted he’d changed his mind. “Alright. But you’d better be one of the good guys.”

Riley nodded with a
quick smile. “I am. Trust me. I’m as good as it gets in this case.”

“Then you won’t mind handing over that gun.” The old
man didn’t blink an eye.

Riley’d tucked the weapon in the waist of his jeans beneath his shirt. He thought the lightweight jacket he’d tossed o
ver it as an afterthought would conceal it from anyone’s view. He’d been wrong. “I can’t do that.”

“You can if you want to know where she’s at.” When Riley didn’t make a move to obey
, the old guy added, “You may be one of the good guys, but as far as I know, you’re just some stranger with a gun up to no good. And I don’t trust you.”

Slowly
, Riley removed the weapon and ejected the cartridge. Going against everything he’d learned in his years on the force, he handed the man his weapon. “Alright. You can have the gun, but I’m keeping the clip.” He dared the old guy to challenge.

The man tucked the weapon inside his own jacket pocket
, wiped his hands on grimy pants and extended one to Riley. “Name’s Polk.”

“Riley Donovan.”
He clasped the old guy’s hand. When he tried to pull free, Polk held onto it a bit longer, his eyes boring into Riley’s. After another moment, Polk released his hand.

It f
elt as if he’d passed a test of some sort.

Polk pulled the gun from his pocket. “Here. You probably need to hold onto this. If someone’s gonna
have to use that thing, I’d rather it be a man who knows how to shoot it properly.”

“Appreciate it.” Riley replaced the clip then shoved the weapon back into
the waist of his jeans. He stood back and watched in amazement as Polk maneuvered the vessel seamlessly from its slip.

“Ever kill
anyone?” Polk surprised him by asking once they were in open water.

“Once.” Riley admitted after a moment.
This wasn’t something he chose to talk about – taking a life no matter how evil, weighed heavy on his conscience most of the time but he felt as if he owed the old man something. And if Polk had taken Jordan to one of the neighboring islands, it would be at least a couple of hours before they arrived. More than enough time to share his story.

“What’d he do?”

“Killed his wife.”

“Why’d he do that?”

“Caught her with his best friend.” Riley spotted Polk’s surprised glance out of the corner of his eye. “Killed his friend as well.”

“Man. That’s a tough one. Can’t say as I blame him.”

He nodded. It happened a short time after he left the Bureau. “It was my first big case. I’d been with homicide less than a month. My partner and I got an anonymous tip that the man was hold up in an abandoned building. We called for backup. I took the back entrance. Frank the front.” Riley remembered every detail of that night as if it were yesterday. He’d changed after that shooting. Become harder. Pessimistic.

“Before backup arrived
, the man decided to run. I remember he came charging out the door. We faced each other in the alley. He was only a few feet from me. My weapon was drawn. So was his. Like some old western. I ordered him to drop the gun. He didn’t. Instead, he cocked the trigger and would have blown my head off. I got off a lucky shot. Right between the eyes.

Polk, mesmerized by the story let out a long whistle then shook his head
. “Uh. Uh. Uh.”

“He was dead before he hit the ground.”
Riley finished, aware of the catch in his voice that was always there whenever he told that story.

“Sounds like he wanted to die. You didn’t have much of a choice if you ask me.”
Polk’s gaze fixed on Riley’s expression. Even today -- after all these years, the reality of taking another life still got to him. He thought about it every single day of his life.

“Yeah.” Polk was right. Daniel Houseman didn’t have a problem killing his wife and best friend. He couldn’t kill himself. He had Riley do that for him. He’d taken the easy way out.
Suicide by cop is what they called it. A living hell was what it had proven to be for Riley.

“Where’d you take her
?”

Polk shot him another look. “Devils Key.
No one will find her there. No one goes there.”

Riley shook his head. He couldn’t tell the man that would be the first place Santiago would likely look.

“She tell you what was going on?”

“No sir. Not a thing. Offered me money to forget I
’d ever met her though.”

Riley could only imagine Jordan’s fear. She
thought she was doing what was best for him. Maybe she still believed he’d betrayed her. Either way, the battle that lay ahead for him in convincing her to trust him again would be difficult. But he had to try. Lives were at stake. Hers. His.

H
e’d made a promise to her that he intended to keep whether she wanted him involved or not. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her even if it meant risking his life. Because for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, something more than just the job mattered.

Jordan
meant something to him. And it wasn’t just because they’d made love, or shared danger. It went far deeper than sex.

If he were being honest, he’d known she was different from the beginning. With Jordan, he could see something he’d never
imagined possible with another woman before.

A little white picket fence. Kids. And something beyond his life as a cop that was rapidly losing its appeal.

He saw a future.

Chapter Eighteen

Jordan waited until she was certain Simone had gone to bed before dragging the room’s one heavy chair across to secure the door.

Her body ached
from exhaustion. The bed looked more than inviting but she didn’t dare fall asleep.

Instead, she dumped the conte
nts of her bag on the bed. Clothes, toiletries and her cell phone. She’d promised herself she’d only use it when she had no other choice. This situation certainly fit the bill.

She tried every single number she had for
Mariah as well as her ex without any answer. Riley had indicated Mariah hadn’t been heard from since arriving in Moscow.

Dear God – please let her be okay.

There was only one person she trusted enough to ask for help. Elliott Colton.

The minute she heard the sleep in Elliot’s voice she realized the time.
Not that it mattered. It couldn’t be helped.

“Elliot, its Jordan. I need your help.” The silence
greeting those words sent her imagination into overdrive.

“Jordan
…gees.” Elliot breathed into the receiver.

“I’m sorry. I know it
’s late.”

“To hell with the time. You have any idea how many people are looking for you?
Caesar’s freaking out. And then there’s the ‘FBI’,” he whispered. “Where are you--” Elliot’s next words were muffled as if he’d placed a hand over the receiver. Jordan remembered Elliot’s wife Marie.

“
Elliot, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you. Apologize to Marie for me. I didn’t know who else to call.”