The Flyboy's Temptation (18 page)

23

H
OPE
STEPPED
OFF
onto the level-four lab and was surprised to find Deirdre flipping through her notes. It was hard not to react by ripping them out of Deirdre's bony fingers, but somehow she managed a false smile.

“Good morning,” she said, wondering why Deirdre would be using her notebook for light reading. Deirdre had access to her finalized findings, which were submitted each week, but her scribblings were her own. “Anything I can help you find?”

Snapping the notebook closed, she gestured, saying, “Follow me, Dr. Larsen,” and walked at a brisk clip from the lab into the offices.

Tanya's office, still closed since her death, made Hope swallow the immediate lump that bobbed in her throat. She knew Deirdre was interviewing Tanya's replacement, but for Hope no one would measure up to her friend.

Deirdre didn't seem affected in the least by Hope's grief and wasn't sympathetic, either.

In fact, they'd been business as usual the day after Tanya had died.

Going straight to the point, Deirdre said, “Tell me about the project you and Dr. Fields were working on when she died.”

Hope paused, arranging her answer in her head. “We were working on the C1H4 protocol, but we were unable to crack the gene sequencing.”

“None of the samples were viable?” Deirdre asked, even though Hope knew her notes supported that assumption.

“No, ma'am.”

“So why the trip to the South American lab?”

“Dr. Fields wanted me to acquire the Ebola sample so we could cross-reference our findings against the parent virus.”

“And a courier service couldn't have accomplished this?”

“She didn't trust the courier. Plus, to be honest, I'd admitted that I'd never been to South America and it was on my bucket list. She said if I could combine business and pleasure, I could pick up the sample for her.”

“Interesting.”

“Interesting? How so? Was this outside of company policy?”

Instead of answering, Deirdre asked another question. “Your expense request is quite large. Care to explain?”

“Unbeknownst to me, someone had been following me. Perhaps the same people who broke into the South American lab. They shot at the plane I was on and it crash-landed in Mexico. I managed to get to the South American lab only because of Mr. Carmichael's help. Is there a problem with the expense request?”

Deirdre waved away the question. “That's not the problem. Just trying to solve a small mystery. It seems odd to me that someone was chasing after you. Why? The attack on the Brazilian lab was due to gang violence. What possible cause would someone have to shoot down your plane? Pardon my rudeness, but I didn't realize you and Tanya were working on anything of importance.”

This was it. Deirdre had realized that she and Tanya had doctored the books. The plan had been to contain the samples at the South American lab, but to list the samples as nonviable, and thus what would be destroyed was simply biological waste.

But if Deirdre knew that Tanya and Hope were lying, which side was Deirdre on?

She heard J.T.'s voice in her head, warning about the possible mole in Tessara, and she held back the urge to tell Deirdre the plain truth.

“I have no idea, but it was very frightening,” Hope said, holding Deirdre's gaze without flinching. She was a terrible poker player, but she knew it was important to convince Deirdre that she was telling the truth.

“Yes, I can only imagine. You must've been relieved to take a commercial flight home.”

“Very much so. I've had my fill of charter planes.”

“As would I.” Deirdre grabbed a piece of paper and signed off on the expense request, then slid it over to Hope. “Your expenses have been approved.”

Hope smiled and rose. “Thank you.” Assuming Deirdre was finished, she turned to leave, but Deirdre's voice at her back stopped her dead.

“Do you know of Anso DeLeon?”

Hope swallowed and turned, affecting an expression of vague recollection. “The name sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it.”

“Mr. DeLeon is a patron of the sciences. A philanthropist who has donated millions to Tessara for research projects. It's thanks to his generous contribution that your lab project was funded at all.”

“Oh? What a nice man.” She nearly choked on the words. “Forgive me—why do you ask?”

Deirdre steepled her fingers. “He was killed three days ago. Home invasion in his South American home. Isn't that a strange coincidence, that he was killed during the same time frame as your visit to Brazil?”

“Very.”

“Hmm...the world has lost a great man.”

Hardly.
The world was a better place with him gone. “Sounds like it.” Sweat began to gather at Hope's temple. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“No, I think you've answered my questions sufficiently.”

Hope forced a smile. “Great. I'll head back to the lab.”

“Yes, I would like you to continue the work on C1H4. Your notes seem promising.”

“Of course,” Hope answered, wondering how long she could sabotage her own work before Deirdre caught on. J.T. was right—maybe she ought to start shopping her résumé after all.

Hope hustled down the hall, her brain whirring faster than a centrifuge. Everything about that meeting had set her hair on end. Was Deirdre corrupt? Was Tessara as bad as J.T. thought it was? Good people worked for Tessara; she knew that because Tanya had been one of the best.

She slipped into the restroom, needing a minute to calm her beating heart. The walls were closing in. Tessara didn't feel safe any longer. More than anything, she wished J.T. were around to protect her. Under most circumstances she was very “I am woman, hear me roar”, but her South American experience had taught her the value of a big, strong man with a bigger gun having her back.

The fact that Deirdre even brought up DeLeon's name made her break out into a cold sweat. Was Deirdre in DeLeon's pocket? She would've had access to Tanya and Hope's research.

A sick, queasy feeling sat lodged in her gut, twisting the bagel she'd eaten for breakfast.

As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she realized she felt more trapped now than when she'd been hurtling to the ground in a rapidly descending plane.

What was she going to do?

She didn't know who to trust or where to turn.

To quote Tanya...she was in quite a pickle.

* * *

J.T.
RECEIVED
T
ESSARA
'
S
check in the mail and immediately handed it over to Teagan, but he felt no sense of satisfaction at seeing all those zeros.

“Nice to be in the black again,” Teagan said. When he saw J.T.'s expression hadn't changed, he added, “It's been a week since we got back and you've had her address. Why haven't you gone to see her?”

“What's the point? I'm not that guy who chases after women who've given him the brush-off. There are plenty of fish in the sea—isn't that how the saying goes?”

“Yeah, well, this one was different.”

He scowled. “What makes you say that?”

“Because it's been a week and you're getting worse each day. Yesterday you just about bit my head off when I asked you if there was any more beer in the fridge.”

It was true. He'd been thinking about Hope, and the fact that he was still thinking about her when he should've moved on was putting him in a foul mood.

The worst.

“Just go talk to her. Maybe things look different now.”

“Why would they look different? She doesn't want to be with me. She was pretty plain about her meaning. She's a brainiac, and I'm just a pilot.”

“An ex-fighter pilot in the Air Force, Special Forces—don't forget that part,” Teagan replied, clearly amused at how bristly J.T. was being. “Is this what love looks like? If so, I think I'll pass.”

“I'm not in love,” J.T. shot back, but just the thought of Hope made his heart ache. “I think I'm coming down with something.”

“Yeah, it's called Cupiditis.”

He skewered Teagan with a dark look when Teagan laughed at his own joke.

“Okay, all kidding aside, your pride is keeping you from going to her, not some belief that she doesn't want you. You want her to come to you—that way you're the one in control because that's the way you operate.”

“That's utter bullshit.”

“Oh, c'mon, you know I'm right. What would happen if she showed up right now? Would you tell her to hit the bricks or would you pull her into the bedroom and make things awkward for the rest of us?”

He had to grin. Their hotel sex had been pretty vigorous and the walls had been thin. J.T. didn't need to insult Teagan by lying; they both knew the score. “She doesn't want me,” he said mulishly. “That's her loss.”

“I'm no expert on love, but I saw the way she looked at you. What if she pushed you away to protect herself? Maybe she's just as gun-shy about love as you are.”

J.T. opened his mouth to shoot his brother down, but there was something that rang true. What if that were the case and they were both doing the same thing?

“Just go see her. Figure things out. Stop being afraid and see where it takes you.”

“What if takes me straight to the bottom? I really don't feel like being kicked to the curb twice.”

“I'm not going to lie—it could happen, but what if it doesn't? What if she's happy to see you? Wouldn't that be worth the risk?”

He considered the possibility and the fact that his heart tripled in beat at the idea told him what he needed to know.

“Am I being a giant pussy?”

“The fact that you have to ask means you already know the answer.”

“Asshole. You could've lied.”

Teagan laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Stop your bellyaching and go get your woman.”

His woman.

He liked the sound of that.

Hopefully, Hope did, too.

Otherwise, his heart was about to take another beating of epic proportion.

24

M
AYBE
SHE
WAS
paranoid, but every shadow seemed menacing and every sound was like a harbinger of potential danger. Had Tanya been aware that her days were numbered or had she gone about her day, popping into Subway for a sandwich, only to die moments later with a turkey on sourdough in her hand?

Hope felt as if the Grim Reaper were counting out the sands in her hourglass, which was ridiculous because she didn't believe in stuff like that, but her brain was playing tricks on her.

Last night she could've sworn she'd heard someone in her living room, but when she'd gotten up to investigate—holding a baseball bat for protection—there'd been nothing out of place and no one lurking to murder her.

It was official: she was totally paranoid.

Even at Tessara it felt as if eyes were on her. When before she'd blithely walked the halls, her mind occupied with formulas, now she was watching for possible moles.

How did a mole act?

Were they overtly sneaky and suspicious-like or did they smile at you in the cafeteria and offer to share their homemade banana bread like Yvette in Lab Three?

She was barely sleeping and her eyes were beginning to cross.

When her shift ended, she gratefully shut down her station, cleaned her lab and went straight home. She didn't even run through a drive-through to pick up food, because she just wanted to fall into her bed and forget how her life had been turned upside down.

She also wanted to forget that stupid ache in her heart whenever she thought of J.T.

Several times Hope had thought of calling Blue Yonder in the hopes that J.T. would pick up, but she chickened out before she could put the thought into motion.

What was she going to say to him?

“Sorry, I was a jerk and I really do care for you”? “Please come back and sleep beside me because I'm scared of my own damn shadow these days”?

It would be easy to cop out and say that the only reason she missed J.T. was that he made her feel safe during these weird times, but that wasn't it. He made her laugh, he drove her crazy and the sex was sublime.

The fact that he also made her feel safe was just a bonus.

Hope opened her front door and walked zombie-like to her bedroom, needing sleep and lots of it, but as she headed straight for her bed, something pushed her hard and she landed on the bed with a startled shriek.

She kicked out blindly and connected with a hard body as she tried scrambling away, but a hand grabbed her foot and pulled her back, cruel fingers biting into her ankle as she tried to kick herself free.

“Help!” she tried to scream, but her lungs were seizing with fear and nothing more than a terrified squeak came out. She kicked again and she was wrenched onto her feet by her hair as something hard pressed into her side.

“Kick me again, bitch, and I will put a bullet in your gut. You won't die right away, but it will hurt so bad you will wish you were dead.”

Shaking all over, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Every self-defense rule she'd ever learned told her to scream, to take the chance because she had a better chance at survival if she attracted attention, but fear had paralyzed her vocal cords.

“Please don't kill me,” she whispered. “Take whatever you want—just don't hurt me.”

“You have a spare ten million lying around?” he sneered, and she froze. “Because that is what you owe me. Your little stunt cost me plenty and it is time you pay your dues.”

“Who are you?”

“I'm crushed you don't recognize my voice, darling. I had such grand plans for you and me. I even considered making you my wife. Now I have different plans... Plans that are not so pleasant.”

Anso DeLeon!
How was it possible? “You're supposed to be d-dead.”

“Sorry to disappoint. I'm difficult to kill, it seems. Now, here's how this is going to work. You're going to come with me like a good girl and finish the job or else I'm going to kill you right now.”

“I destroyed the samples,” she said, shaking. “There's nothing left.”

He shoved the gun against her temple. “Well, then, you'd better hope you have a very good memory. Now
move
!”

It was dark. No one would notice Anso holding her tightly as they walked to his awaiting vehicle. It would look as if they were lovers going for a stroll.

Tears sprang to her eyes. This was what her pride had brought her—being kidnapped for a second time by a madman with nine lives, apparently. Why hadn't she listened to J.T. about Tessara? Why had she pushed him away?

“You were shot,” she said, grimacing as he dug the gun into her side as they walked.

“Yes, I was. But I have excellent doctors on staff. I should tell you, I'm quite put out about the deaths of my guards. Your friend will pay for that. The charter business is filled with dangerous things lying around. Accidents happen.”

Her heart stopped. “Leave him out of this. He's nothing to you.”

“No one screws with Anso DeLeon, my girl. A lesson has to be taught.”

“What are you going to do?”

“And spoil the surprise?” His chuckle made her want to pee herself. “I hope you're a fan of fireworks, because something is about to go boom.”

J.T.!
Tears sprang to her eyes as Anso stuffed her into the sleek Town Car and they drove off into the night.

* * *

J.T.
PULLED
UP
to the apartment complex to see a black Town Car speeding off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he had a bad feeling. What was a Town Car doing in this neighborhood at this time of the night?

And why had it sped off like that?

Something wasn't right.

He bounded up the stairs to Hope's apartment and found the door open. His dread tripled when he checked her entire place and found it empty, but saw a sign of a struggle in the bedroom.

Shit!

J.T. bounded out the door and called Teagan as he ran back to his truck.

“Someone's taken Hope! I think she's in a black Town Car. Get Ty on the phone to check the surveillance cameras on Sutton Avenue at the intersection of Olive and Nabor Avenues! I need to know where that Town Car is going!”

“Shit, man, are you sure?”

“I feel it in my gut. There was a sign of a struggle and she's nowhere to be found.”

Teagan didn't question and simply hung up to do as J.T. asked.

Ty called and J.T. immediately answered. “Where'd it go?”

“Turned down Magnolia at a high rate of speed, heading to the airport.”

“Got it. We need back up on this. Does Harris still have connections to that FBI guy?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Call him. Tell him everything we know so far. I'll do what I can, but if she gets on a plane, she'll be as good as gone.”

“You got it, brother.”

J.T. clicked off and pressed the gas pedal down harder. He had to make it to the airport. He cursed himself for hanging back, for sulking like a baby when he'd suspected there was still a threat at large.

What had he been thinking?

If anything happened to Hope... He couldn't think straight.

Flashbacks of his last tour threatened to send him off the road. He felt helpless, impotent rage, and his lungs squeezed every bit of air from his chest...

No! He would find her. He would save her.

Use your brain. Think.
The fact that it was a Town Car said that whoever had snatched her had money, which meant they wouldn't fly commercial.

LAX had private planes coming and going all the time. Who had enough money to have their own private plane?

Anso DeLeon.

But he was dead.

He thought of that night and realized he hadn't actually seen Anso's body, just the word that Ricardo had shot him and then the guards had riddled Ricardo with bullets.

Anso was the only one with the means to pull something like this off. Plus, he was the only one with high enough stakes to risk being caught.

He called Teagan. “Find out which hangar is registered to Anso DeLeon,” he instructed, taking a hard right for a shortcut to the airport.

“Hold on—let me check,” Teagan said. Then he came back with “Hangar Twelve.”

J.T. asked, “Did Harris call his FBI friend?”

“Yeah, rousted him out of bed. He thinks Harris is full of shit, but he managed to talk him into checking it out. I hope to God you're right. Otherwise, Harris just burned a pretty good bridge.”

Yeah, he hoped so, too. “Ditto, brother.”

He reached the airport and flashed his pilot license to gain access to the private charter area.

Picking up speed, he saw the Town Car parked in front of a waiting Learjet. He knew they couldn't take off until they had clearance, and by the looks of it they couldn't leave for another ten minutes.

He parked out of sight and ran the rest of the way, needing the element of surprise on his side.

J.T. was shocked to see a woman was holding Hope hostage. She was talking to her, but he couldn't exactly hear what they were saying.

Then he spotted Anso, exiting the car, directing the people stowing his luggage in the sleek plane.

J.T. ground his teeth, wishing he'd doubled back to make sure the man was dead.

But who was the woman?

The woman started arguing with Anso as Anso grabbed Hope by the arm and pulled her to him with sharp words directed at the woman.

He crept a little closer, praying his backup arrived soon.

He didn't dare risk going in guns blazing, but it took everything in him to stay put.

J.T. wasn't looking to be a hero, but he wasn't going to let Hope board that plane.