Operation: Midnight Rendezvous
His kiss was raw and primal.
Inside Jess, fear and desire clashed, like steel dragged across rock at a high rate of speed, shooting sparks high into the air.
It was crazy, considering what they were about to do, but she kissed Madrid back. Turning her back to the danger that lurked outside, she allowed herself to revel in the feel of his mouth against hers, his hands on her body. “What was that for?” she asked when he pulled back.
“Luck.”
“If that was for luck,” she said breathlessly, “I’m afraid to imagine what’ll happen when we finish this.”
Taking her hand, Madrid stepped out into the darkness of midnight, ready to face the devil in his den. She followed, her mind numb to the danger. Instead, her mind was reeling, her body vibrating with the aftershocks of his kiss. It was silly to think about an inconsequential kiss when they were about to risk their lives. But there was nothing inconsequential about the way Madrid had kissed her.
There
would
be consequences…
LINDA CASTILLO
OPERATION: MIDNIGHT RENDEZVOUS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda Castillo knew at a very young age that she wanted to be a writer—and penned her first novel at the age of thirteen. She is the winner of numerous writing awards, including the Holt Medallion, the Golden Heart and the Daphne du Maurier and she received a nomination for the prestigious RITA
®
Award.
Linda loves writing edgy romantic suspense novels that push the envelope and take her readers on a rollercoaster ride of breathtaking romance and thrilling suspense. She resides in Texas with her husband, four lovable dogs and an Appaloosa named George. For a complete list of her books, check out her Web site at www.lindacastillo.com. Contact her at [email protected]. Or write to her at P.O. Box 670501, Dallas, Texas 75367-0501.
Books by Linda Castillo
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
871—OPERATION: MIDNIGHT TANGO
890—OPERATION: MIDNIGHT ESCAPE
920—OPERATION: MIDNIGHT GUARDIAN
940—OPERATION: MIDNIGHT RENDEZVOUS
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Jessica Atwood
—Accused of a murder she didn’t commit, she fled the police with her best friend’s little boy in tow. But the police weren’t the only ones looking for her—or the child. Can she find out who framed her and clear her name before the real killers finish the job they began?
Mike Madrid
—The MIDNIGHT agent was Angela’s former partner—and lover. Determined to find her killer, he lays down his badge and vows to find the killer and bring them to justice. But he soon finds himself falling for his number one suspect.
Angela Matheson
—The MIDNIGHT agent and young mother was murdered while working deep undercover as a dirty cop in the small, coastal town of Lighthouse Point, California. Did she get too close to discovering the idyllic town’s dark secret?
Nicholas Matheson
—A special-needs child witnessed his mother’s murder. Unable to speak, he must now rely on his mom’s best friend to keep him safe from the bad man.
Sean Cutter
—Head of the MIDNIGHT Agency, he deemed Mike Madrid too emotionally involved to work the case. But when Madrid turns in his badge and goes rogue, Cutter has no recourse but to let him go.
Norm Mummert
—The chief of police of Lighthouse Point, California, he is a by-the-book cop determined to find the person responsible for the death of one of his officers. Or is he?
Jake Vanderpol
—The MIDNIGHT agent and personal friend Mike Madrid called upon as a last resort. Will Jake risk his career and reputation to help his fellow agent?
Contents
Prologue
Jessica Atwood ran blindly through the darkness. Around her, rain poured down in icy sheets. Trees and brush slashed at her face and clothes; mud sucked at her shoes like quicksand. She plowed through the branches and fought her way through the heavy brush, her labored breaths rushing between clenched teeth. Her lungs burned as if they were on fire, but she didn’t stop.
She would die before she let them hurt the boy.
Gripping his hand tighter, she ran. Behind her she could hear them shouting. Razor blades of light cut through the night as the powerful beams of their flashlights sought her. In the distance she could hear the dogs baying. Gaining ground. Death knocking on her door.
“Come on, baby,” she panted. “Run for me. Run!”
When Nicolas didn’t respond, she squeezed his hand. Vaguely she was aware of him crying. She wanted to hold him, tell him everything was going to be all right. But there wasn’t time. They were running for their lives.
Terror was like a wild beast turned loose inside her. She knew their pursuers would kill them both if they caught them. She couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let them kill an innocent child. Somehow she had to save them.
Or die trying.
The first gunshot exploded like a bomb. A scream tore from her throat when a branch fractured less than a foot from her head. Shoving Nicolas ahead to keep him out of the line of fire, she darted left and took him down a ravine at a reckless speed.
“Run!” she panted. “Please, baby. Faster!”
They hit the foot of the gully in an all-out sprint. She glanced back to see one of their pursuers at the top of the ravine, silhouetted against the night sky. Terror ratcheted into something wild and unwieldy when she saw him raise his rifle for a shot.
Oh, dear God, no!
she thought, and picked up speed. An instant later something struck her left arm with what seemed to be the force of a missile traveling at the speed of light. The impact spun her around, and the violent shock of pain sent her to her knees. A second later the report shattered the night.
“Mah-mah. Mah-mah!”
She glanced at Nicolas, at the tears and mud that streaked his face. He needed her. She had to be strong. She had to get them through this. Angela would have wanted that for her son.
“I’m okay, honey,” she said.
“Mah-mah.” He reached for her, his face crumpling. “Mah-mah!”
“It’s going to be all right.” Cradling her injured arm,
she staggered to her feet. Pain clutched her like a giant, bony hand, and dizziness descended, but she shook it off and grabbed Nicolas’s hand.
“Come on,” she whispered.
Animal sounds tore from her throat as she stumbled over rocks and tree roots and loose dirt. She lost her footing twice, but somehow managed to stay upright. At a dangerous speed they descended into a second ravine. Midway down, Jess’s foot caught on something and she fell, screaming when Nicolas’s hand was torn from hers. She went into a wild tumble, rocks and tree roots battering her body, but all she could think about was Nicolas, alone and in danger.
The earth disappeared beneath her then, catapulting her into a free fall. Jess knew that when she landed the impact would surely kill her. Instead, her body slammed into water. The sudden sharp cold shocked her system and she went under. As the strong current pulled her downstream, debris hit her and the churning water tumbled her. Stifling a scream, she sucked in a mouthful of water and began to choke. Panic gripped her. Fighting it, she kicked her legs hard and fast and an instant later her face broke the surface.
“Nicolas!” she screamed.
She struggled against the powerful current, but the force of the water swept her along the jagged bank dotted with rocks and tree roots. She tried to look around, but all she saw was darkness and rain and black, swirling water.
“Nicolas!”
But when she reached for his hand all she felt was the cold grip of the river. All she heard was the whisper of death in her ear.
Chapter One
Mike Madrid knew something big was going down the instant the call came in on his secure line at four o’clock in the morning. The call itself wasn’t unusual, considering he worked for a top secret agency. He knew it was bad when Sean Cutter refused to give him details over the phone.
“I want you at MIDNIGHT headquarters by oh five hundred,” Cutter said.
Madrid made the drive from his apartment in an upscale Washington, D.C., neighborhood to the top secret MIDNIGHT Agency headquarters in record time. He’d expected Cutter to have already assembled the team for whatever assignment had warranted the call out, but he found only one man in the room. When Sean Cutter looked up from where he sat, Madrid suddenly knew this wasn’t about an assignment or a mission. It was personal.
“What happened?” he asked without preamble.
“Sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down.” Madrid’s heart began to pound. “I want to know what the hell is going on.”
Cutter leaned back in his chair. Within the depths of his eyes Madrid saw knowledge. He saw regret. Caution. Worst of all he saw a damnable amount of sympathy. “We lost an agent last night.”
“Who?” But even before Cutter answered, he knew.
“Angela Matheson.”
The name struck him like a brass-knuckle punch. Disbelief and grief tangled inside him, but Madrid didn’t let himself react. A master at schooling his expression and body language, he stood perfectly still, his face carefully blank, his eyes level on his superior.
“You sure?” he asked after a moment, surprised his voice sounded so normal when he was coming apart inside.
“Yeah.”
“How did it happen?”
“She was on assignment in Northern California. Deep undercover work.”
“Are you being vague on purpose?”
“You know how it works.”
A deep-cover operative himself, Madrid knew all too well that the fewer people who knew about an operation, the better the chance that the agent’s cover would remain intact. He shouldn’t take Cutter’s silence personally, but he did.
“Did someone make her?” he asked. “Blow her cover? What?”
“We don’t know the details.”
“I’m not in the mood to be stonewalled.”
“Then stop asking questions I can’t answer.” Cutter sighed tiredly, and Madrid realized the other man had
been up all night. “Look, I didn’t want you to hear about this secondhand. That’s why I called you in.”
Madrid didn’t want this to be about emotions. It was about the loss of an agent. But he could feel the emotions burgeoning inside him. “You put someone on it?”
“I did.”
“Who?”
Cutter frowned.
Madrid smiled, but the stretching of his lips belied the emotions slashing his insides to bits. “You know better than to try to lock me out of this.”
“I know better than to assign an agent something when he’s too personally involved.”
“I’m not some damn rookie, Sean. I can handle it.”
“No dice, Mike.”
Fury joined the chorus of emotions singing through him. “What about the boy?” Nicolas, he remembered. A sweet kid with special needs.
“Missing.”
The word hit him like a punch. Angela had loved that kid more than anything in the world. He wiped his wet palms on his slacks. “Why would someone take her kid? Was it a kidnapping? What?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Liar
. “Do you have a suspect?”
Cutter’s jaw flexed. The silence that followed spoke more than a thousand words.
“Witnesses? Anything at all to go on?”