Operation Blind Date (19 page)

Chapter 32

“B
ack off, Quinn,” Teague said into the headset. “He’s got a knife and he’s using Amber as a shield.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Exactly,” Teague agreed, angry with himself. If he’d been ten seconds faster, hell, even five, he would have had the guy before he got down into the cabin. But now he had Amber jammed up against his side, and the narrow but deadly sharp filleting knife already had drawn blood, a thin line that trickled down her throat.

A moment later the sound of the helicopter faded as Quinn withdrew.

“You’re a cop,” the man said with disgust.

“No,” Teague answered. “Just a friend.”

He would have tried to give Amber a reassuring look, but there was a none-too-clean rag tied over her eyes. Duct tape was plastered over her mouth and a rope tied with those same knots—much more suitable here—held her wrists together behind her back. Her cheeks were wet, tears having already gotten past the dirty rag. Her blond hair was tangled and matted. There was a bruise on her left cheek, more along her arms.

“A friend? With a helicopter?”

“A private one. It wasn’t marked, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He doubted the man had noticed anything except that it was coming straight at him.

Teague looked at Amber. He wondered if the restraints were a result of her venturing out on deck this morning. Perhaps she really had been trying to escape, stopped only by her fear of the water and inability to swim. She had to be terrified to have even considered it.

He’d been right about the close quarters. Drawing his weapon, even the smoke grenade was out of the question; Amber would get hurt, maybe even killed. He had to find another way.

“Give it up, man,” Teague said. “The cops are on the way, and they won’t be as reasonable as we will.”

“We? Who the hell is ‘we’?”

“Friends of Amber’s. All we want is her, safe.”

The man snorted scornfully. “Snooty bitch doesn’t have any real friends. Not that would risk this. She’s all flash.”

Teague heard Amber choke back a sob. “You’re wrong,” he said softly, thinking of Laney, the truest of real friends.

“She’s a whore, doesn’t know the meaning of the word loyalty. If you’re one of them that thinks you’re her boyfriend, you’re a fool.”

“I’m a fool? I’m not the one who’s cornered in a boat that’s adrift and headed straight for the rocks, with a helicopter pinning me down and the cops on the way,” he said.

Teague had the feeling the guy hadn’t realized quite how precarious his position was until he’d heard it in words like that. He looked around the small cabin as if he expected to hear the crunch of the hull hitting rock at any second. Teague guessed the waters of the cove were calm enough that wasn’t likely to happen fast, although Quinn could probably blow them that way with rotor wash if it came to that.

“Back up.” The man shouted the order, gesturing again with the knife at Amber’s throat, drawing a little more blood and a muffled cry from behind the tape. “Get outside.”

Having little choice at the moment, Teague knew he was going to have to comply. Besides, he needed room to maneuver, and he didn’t have that down here. So it was to their advantage to be out of the cabin. He knew Quinn would be monitoring. And more importantly, once they were outside, so would Rafe. Now that it was clearly a hostage situation, he’d be prepping his shot carefully.

The man was a good head taller than Amber, which would help. It would still be tricky, with the boat moving in four directions at once, laterally and vertically, but Rafe was indeed the best he’d ever seen, and if it could be done, he could do it. He’d even pulled off one or two that simply couldn’t be done, until he did them.

Slowly his gaze fastened on the man with the knife; he backed up, slowly, trying to anticipate what the man would do. If he wanted to try another run for it he had to go up on deck to the helm. He might try it, using Amber as leverage to keep Quinn at bay. Which meant he’d need Teague here and alive for at least long enough to relay the message.

He started up the steep, narrow cabin steps backward, never taking his eyes off the man. He focused on his eyes, watching for some expression to warn him the man had tipped over into panic, because as Laney had said, panicked people did stupid things.

“We’re coming out,” he said into the headset, although he was sure Quinn had heard the shouted order. He was also sure his boss was intensely frustrated at the moment, despite having done what had to be done, keeping the boat where it was. But since it took both hands—and feet—to keep the helicopter in the air in such tricky and close quarters, there wasn’t much else he could do now but hang back and watch.

And, if necessary, give the order to Rafe.

Once again, Rafe was their ace in the hole, and Teague had never felt better about it. All he really had to do was make sure he got a clean chance. Get Amber clear. It wasn’t even a long shot, not for Rafe. Maybe six hundred feet. He’d done shots at ten times that distance. Hell, he could probably do it with a pistol, if he was in practice.

He emerged into the open air. The man shoved Amber up the steps. Blind and terrified, she stumbled repeatedly, earning a string of curses from the man that singed even Teague’s marine-corps-toughened ears.

He could hear the helicopter, but didn’t want to look away. He also wanted to look for Laney, but he couldn’t let himself do that, either, not now. He judged from the sound Quinn had backed up as much as away, probably thinking another dive might be necessary. This also told Teague Quinn was relying on him to make the call for Rafe, although Quinn himself would, as always, give the order.

The man edged backward toward the wheel, keeping his attention on Teague and the knife against Amber’s vulnerable throat.

A flicker of movement caught the corner of Teague’s vision. By training he didn’t betray it by moving his eyes, but mentally shifted his focus to the edge, to his peripheral vision. And realized what he’d seen was the tip of a kayak, edging up closer, behind the man.

Laney.

He wanted to yell at her to get away, get clear, but he didn’t want to betray her presence to the man who right now was focused completely on him as he finally reached the helm.

I’m not stupid, Teague. I know when to rely on the pros.

I never thought you were. Ever. Far from it.

The exchange echoed in his head.
I’m not stupid, Teague.

Give her credit,
he thought. She’d earned it.
And maybe it’s time you learned to rely on a civilian.

“Hope you have a paddle,” he said, raising his voice, he hoped just enough.

“It’ll start,” the man sneered, taking it just as Teague had hoped.

He wasn’t sure if he hoped Laney had heard and understood or not.

A split second later he knew she had.

Drops of water sprayed in an arc as a double-bladed kayak paddle swung up over the railing. The man never even saw it until it caught him, hard, on the side of the knee away from Amber. He yelled. Spun around as the joint buckled. He staggered.

And let go of Amber.

Teague dove, taking him low, where he was already off balance. The man’s feet went backward; his heavy body went forward, over Teague’s back. In that instant Teague rolled to one side. The man hit the deck. Hard. Face-first. The loud thud was satisfying.

The man didn’t move. He appeared stunned, but Teague wasn’t about to leave anything to chance. He kicked aside the rusty knife the man had dropped when he hit. He pulled his own blade from his boot and went to Amber, who cowered away from him, muffled sobs coming from behind the duct tape. She was close enough to the rail he was afraid she’d go over.

“Teague?”

Laney’s voice came from over the side. The bedraggled blonde went still.

“She’s all right,” he called.
And thank God you are.
He took a step toward the bound woman. “It’s all right, Amber. It’s over. Laney’s here with me.”

He reached out and tugged off the blindfold. Amber blinked in the sunlight, looked at him, then spotted the man lying on the deck. She recoiled. Teague realized coming at her with that knife out without explanation probably wasn’t a good idea.

She bore little resemblance at the moment to the beautiful woman in the photographs. Her eyes were indeed that striking color, but reddened to the point of looking painful from what had probably been non-stop crying. Her hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed the entire time. Teague was willing to bet she had never been this dirty in her life.

Or as scared.

He made sure his voice was gentle, reassuring. “Amber, my name’s Teague. I’m going to cut that rope off you. I need it for him.”

She was shaking, but after a moment she nodded. He did it as quickly as he could. He cut the rope close to the knot, to give him the most length to work with. He quickly backed off. His instinct was to comfort the terrorized woman, but priorities demanded he secure the bad guy first. In seconds he had him trussed up securely, still facedown.

In his ear Teague heard Quinn tell Rafe to stand down. He heard a sound at the rear of the boat; realized Laney had come around to the stern. She might need some help getting out of that kayak, he thought.

He glanced at Amber. The terror was fading, but she still looked scared, as if she were not certain her situation had improved all that much. She looked up where the helicopter had retreated to a normal altitude. When she glanced over the rail at the water, like someone again contemplating risking the swim, he knew just how right Laney had been.

“He’s one of the good guys, too,” Teague said, gesturing up at the hovering aircraft.

“Laney,” she whispered.

“She’s here.”

He walked back to the stern. Laney was there, looking up at him from the kayak, clearly wound so tight it was a wonder she didn’t explode right out of the unstable craft. “She’s really all right?”

“Physically,” he answered, knowing she’d understand. She gave a quick, short nod. She reached up to him.

“Help me?” she asked.

“Always,” he answered.

He took her hand, pulled, and she scrambled aboard rather neatly. For a second she didn’t move, she just clung to him.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She was crying, as she had been the first time he’d seen her. Yet differently, because she was smiling.

“Thank
you,
” he said. “You gave me the chance.”

And then she ran to Amber.

And Teague stood and watched the reunion, thinking this truly was what Foxworth was all about.

And wondered just how many different ways those last twelve words they’d exchanged could be taken.

Chapter 33

“I
t’s over, Amber. We’ll have you off this boat in no time,” Teague said. He took a breath as if he needed to steady himself. It reminded Laney of the day she’d met him, when she’d been the one crying. “It’s all over.”

His voice sounded flat, and Laney wondered if he was feeling the adrenaline crash she’d been warned about. But what either of them was feeling had to be nothing compared to what Amber was going through. She hugged her friend tightly.

“It’s all right, Amber.”

Laney kept her voice low and soothing, but it didn’t seem to have much effect on Amber’s weeping. Not that she blamed her.

“I feel so stupid. I should have known. You would have known.”

“I didn’t,” Laney said, well aware she had been saying the same thing about herself not so long ago. Only Teague’s reassurance had helped her.

Teague, she thought. Teague who had believed her, brought her help, and in the end rescued her best friend personally. Despite what he said about the whack she’d given the guy with her paddle. Which had been a clumsy affair anyway. She’d wanted to stand up and deliver it to his head, would have liked the feeling of delivering that blow, but had decided trying to stand in that kayak would likely land her in the water where she’d be no help at all.

But Teague hadn’t needed much, just a bit of distraction, to take the man out with a speed and efficiency that was a bit breath-stealing. He’d never hesitated, just launched himself at the man, and it had been over so quickly she had felt a little stunned by it all.

But Amber was alive, albeit bruised and dirty. Laney didn’t know yet just how bad it had been for her precious friend, but she quickly decided the best course was to assume the very worst and treat Amber accordingly, with softer than kid gloves.

“You’re always so careful about men,” Amber said in a tone of self-accusation. “You tried to tell me, but I just thought you were paranoid. Didn’t know how to have fun.”

“Amber, stop—”

“But it’s true. I always fall for the guy right off, and you—you’ve never slept with a guy you’d known less than six months in your entire life.”

Images slammed through Laney’s mind: Teague, first on the floor, then in her bed, half-naked then naked, she herself wild with a kind of need she’d never experienced, so hungry for him she nearly screamed with it. And then, with his hard, hungry body driving her, she had screamed.

In that moment she was glad Amber wasn’t looking at her, because she was certain every single bit of that night, every hot, delicious moment, was etched on her face.

“You always told me I’d regret moving so fast all the time,” Amber said, gulping back another sob.

“Wait, Amber,” Laney finally managed to get out, pushing the heated visions back for the moment. “Who are you talking about? How did this happen? I thought you were seeing Edward.”

“I was.”

“But him, how did he come into it?” Laney gestured at the man on the deck; he’d come around now, but Teague had rooted around and found the roll of duct tape he’d used on Amber and proceeded to tape his mouth shut, saying there was absolutely nothing the guy had to say that any of them needed to hear. He’d also added a couple of zip ties to the rope, until the man ended up hog-tied and helpless on the deck where he’d threatened Amber’s life. Laney felt nothing but satisfaction about that.

Amber gave a bitter, humorless laugh. “He was always hanging around, flirting. Then they had an argument. He said Edward owed him, and he wanted me in payment. The bastard just got out of the car and left me with him. I tried to get away but he sped up and I couldn’t. I tried whenever we stopped, but that’s when he started hitting me. And then he tied me up.”

Laney’s stomach lurched. She tightened her arms around Amber, letting her cry, saying nothing simply because she couldn’t think of anything to say.

Amber might be safe now, but this was a long way from over for her traumatized friend.

Laney kept her arm around her as she helped her get off the boat that had been her cell and onto the skiff that would carry them back to dry land. Laney figured that alone would help Amber’s mental state a great deal.

As long, Laney had thought, as she didn’t look too closely at the man who’d come for them. This was the infamous Rafe, she gathered, and she didn’t think it was just her knowledge of his lethal skills that had caused her to suck in a breath when she first looked at him. She’d never seen eyes like that, shadowed, tightened by a darkness that she didn’t think came just from whatever had caused the limp she noticed as soon as they were ashore.

But now it began, she thought. There was so much to figure out, to unravel. But Quinn took over, and his commanding presence made it clear it would all be handled.

With an inward sigh of relief, she mentally handed it over and turned her attention completely to reassuring her best friend.

* * *

The garrulous harbormaster was still looking a bit befuddled. Teague couldn’t blame him. He was sure the guy had come in today expecting a pleasant end-of-summer day, probably vowing to enjoy the weather as the season wound down. And instead he ended up with cops in his office and a helicopter in his parking lot. And a cluster of gaping marina tenants demanding explanations.

They’d taken over the office completely. Detective Dunbar and a couple of uniforms had arrived some ten minutes after they’d made it back ashore, picked up in a runabout Rafe had commandeered from an astonished boater at the docks. He would have liked to have seen that, Teague thought. The look people got when Rafe stared them down was always startlingly the same, as if there was some deeply buried human instinct that took over when they were confronted with lethal force personified.

He’d requested the assist when the boat indeed wouldn’t start, was in fact slowly drifting toward the rocks and it became clear Laney wasn’t about to leave Amber to kayak back. And although Amber could have fit with him on the larger fishing kayak he had, he didn’t think it wise to ask the woman to take on her fear of water that closely after all she’d been through.

Rafe had arrived, taken the line Teague threw him and tied the boat off once more at the buoy. They then climbed, Amber quite gingerly, into the smaller, open boat. Laney never left her friend’s side, and Amber clung to her like a lifeline.

I get that, Teague thought. Because Laney would never, ever break. Not when it came to someone she loved.

His mind skittered away from the very word.
Don’t even go there,
he ordered himself. And walked over to look out the window as if physically going somewhere else could prevent his mind from going where he didn’t want it to go. He stared at the peaceful scene the marina had returned to, the only hint of anything out of the ordinary the helicopter Quinn had neatly set down in the parking lot.

He had no time for thinking about things he didn’t want to think about anyway. There was simply too much to do, too many details to wind up, and too much explaining to do. Thankfully most of that would fall to Quinn; he’d already given his report to his boss before Dunbar and crew had arrived. He’d given a briefer, only-the-essentials report to Dunbar himself, who had studied him for a moment with a look that said he knew there was more to it but he was trusting Teague that it wasn’t relevant.

First order of business now that it was all over, but the details, was Amber, and while Laney’s first instinct was to help her clean up—the normally fastidious woman must feel awful, she’d said—Teague had had to hold her back.

“Evidence,” he’d said. And while Laney’s eyes widened, she’d only taken a split second to nod in understanding.

“She needs to see a doctor,” Laney insisted now. Teague turned back to look at her; she was giving Dunbar that determined, chin-up look that said she wouldn’t back down.

She hadn’t looked at him since the detective had arrived. In fact, seemed to be purposely avoiding even the slightest eye contact. And he was afraid he knew what that meant.

“We’ll make the initial statement short,” Detective Dunbar said. “Then we’ll get her to a medical facility.”

Laney nodded, glancing over to the office where Amber was now seated, huddled into herself in a way that made Teague wish he’d done more damage to her abductor.

One of the uniformed deputies was the woman who was in there with Amber, and Teague didn’t doubt Dunbar had seen to that. The man was competent and efficient, tough when he had to be, but with the capacity for gentleness as well, a compassion that people responded to in the same sort of way they responded to Rafe, albeit oppositely.

Teague had instinctively liked him the first time they’d met, when he’d helped them with Kayla’s missing brother. He hoped the goodwill they’d built up with him then would cover what had happened here today. He thought so; Dunbar was a practical sort, who realized law enforcement couldn’t be everywhere all the time, especially out here in remote areas.

He just had to hope Quinn could convince him they hadn’t dared to wait for them to arrive before getting Amber out of there. One look at the pale, bruised, dazed woman, her eyes still wide and dark with shock, should do that. He’d seen the expression on the female deputy’s face when she’d led Amber gently into the office to get that first statement, and knew Dunbar had chosen well.

He’d hear the whole story eventually, he knew. And Quinn would manage to smooth things over, although this one might be a bit trickier than some, given they’d actually staged a hostage rescue on their own, without waiting for the authorities. He wondered if Quinn had put in a call to Gavin de Marco, the Foxworth attorney. He imagined how that might have gone. “Hey, Gav, we just boarded a private vessel and knocked out a guy whose name we don’t even know.”

He didn’t know enough about the law to predict what the answer would be, but he’d dealt with de Marco a few times, and the man was, in his own way, as unflappable as Rafe. And, Teague suspected, as steely when he had to be. And he had a way of presenting things that made it clear to all concerned it would be best to simply accept and move on.

Foxworth’s well-established policy of never taking public credit when their paths did cross with official channels helped, Teague supposed. They scrupulously avoided stepping on toes.

“Can you live with others taking credit for what you’ve done?” was one of the first questions Quinn asked him during the long—very long—interview process that was more of a vetting than many public officials ever got.

“I’ve been living with it for years,” he’d said. “As long as the right thing gets done, and I know I had a part in it, that’s enough.”

“They’re liable to be blatant about it. They often are.”

Quinn hadn’t had to explain to him who the “they” were. “I’ve served with and under the type often. Most of them had one thing in common.”

“Which was?”

“They themselves have no idea what to do. I don’t get envious of the clueless.”

Quinn had laughed. Later, he’d told him that he’d decided then and there that unless Teague did or said something unforgivably stupid through the rest of the process, he was in.

He glanced over at Detective Dunbar, who was still talking to Laney. Or rather, listening to her. He could tell by her expression that she was earnestly pouring out what had happened. And Dunbar was indeed listening, which was all Laney had ever asked, but this man was the only cop who really had.

He looked tired, though. Still lean, and fit, but tired, and there seemed to him to be a trace more of the silver at his temples than there had been even since he’d first met him, during Kayla and Dane Burdette’s case a few weeks ago.

Great,
he muttered.
With all this going on, you’re standing here wondering if a cop’s gone grayer?

He answered himself grimly, because he knew perfectly well that he was focusing on any and everything except what he now knew. What had been made painfully clear in the minutes after the hostage rescue. Amber’s words were undeniable, and Teague found he couldn’t dodge them any longer.

You’re always so careful about men,
Amber had said.
I always fall for the guy right off, and you—you’ve never slept with a guy you’d known less than six months in your entire life.

You always told me I’d regret moving so fast....

He’d known it. Sensed it. What had happened between them was totally, completely out of character for her. His first instinct, the one that had driven him to leave that first time, when it was the last thing he’d wanted to do, had been the right one. He’d told her it was the circumstances, told her she was vulnerable, under stress.

He should have stuck with that.

And that he hadn’t had a prayer, not once she’d decided she wanted him in spite of all the reasons he’d given her, of resisting.

Guilt blasted through him.
Some professional you are,
he thought.
Quinn tried to warn you, and you went right ahead anyway. And now that the circumstances are back to normal, now that everything that drove us together has been resolved, you get to deal with the fallout.

So deal with it. Be a professional now, since you were anything but before.

He could do that much, he told himself. The best thing he could do for Laney now was save her the embarrassment of having to tell him she’d come to her senses, that she hadn’t really meant any of it.

That he had meant every bit of it was something he was just going to have to live with.