TRAPPED (10 page)

And in the middle of a dark Amazon rain forest, a tear leaked out of her eye because of all she had given up.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
TIME
she woke up, she was all alone in the hammock. It was light out and Brody was standing by the fire, his back to her. The angle was right that she could see he had his arms folded over his chest and was deep in thought.

She didn’t want to intrude. She’d given up the right to his thoughts many years before.

He turned, as if he had somehow sensed she was awake. He stared at her. “Good morning,” he said, his voice rusty.

“Good morning.”

“There’s tea,” he said.

“Thank you.” She reached over the side of the hammock, grabbed the end of her walking stick that she’d placed there the night before, and tapped and swished it around on the ground, giving the vermin in the area fair warning that she was about to get up.

Brody watched her and she could see a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.

Great. She was amusing.

When she got close enough, he handed her the tea bottle and she took a drink. The liquid was still warm and she thought it might have been the best cup of tea that she’d ever had.

The breakfast bar and nuts were gone, but with any luck, they’d find bananas and berries that would sustain them for the journey. By tonight, if her calculations were correct, they’d be sitting around Leo’s table.

As if he could read her thoughts, Brody turned to her. “Tell me about your friend that we’re looking for.”

“His name is Leo Arroul. I’ve known him for more than ten years. We regularly keep in touch online and see each other every couple of years. He’s very smart, maybe not as smart as you, but smart.”

“I’m not that smart,” he said.

“Right. Anyway, he had a big corporate job at one time but now he works on developing clean water systems.”

“Is he married?”

It was an odd question. It took her a minute to realize that Brody was fishing, that what he really wanted to know was whether there was something more than friendship between her and Leo. “Not anymore. Divorced some time ago. We’ve never had that kind of relationship.” She dug the toe of her loafer into the dew-covered dirt. “I haven’t had that kind of relationship with anybody,” she said. “I didn’t leave you for someone else,” she added, suddenly believing it was very important for him to know that.

There was a long moment of silence before he turned to her. His eyes were bright. “Why did you leave, Elle? What was so wrong that you had to run away, three weeks before our wedding?” His voice sounded strangled.

She could not say a word.

“You know, my mother had to return all the gifts that people had already sent. Everyone said how badly they felt for me.
Poor Brody. Left at the altar.
That’s what they said. People pitied me, Elle. I hated that.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I...I didn’t think,” she admitted. She’d acted. Not necessarily on impulse. No, it had been too important for that. But once she’d decided, she’d acted fast, scared that she wasn’t strong enough.

Strong enough to leave him.

“That’s it. That’s your whole explanation.
I didn’t think.
”

She shook her head. “Does it really matter, Brody? What’s done is done. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better. Happy?” She knew she sounded angry and antagonistic when in truth she was simply heartsick.

“Happy?” he repeated incredulously. He didn’t say anything for a long minute. Finally, he spoke. “Yep. Happy as a duck in water. Now let’s go.”

Chapter Ten

Brody set an aggressive pace and, to her credit, Elle kept up. However, two hours into their morning, their pace slowed considerably. The tree and plant growth was substantially heavier, making it impossible to easily skirt around obstacles. There was no choice but to go through it, and Mrs. Hardy’s knife wasn’t really up to the task.

Sweat ran down his back from the exertion of sawing through plants. His shoulders hurt and he had a four-inch rip in his shirt where the sharp end of a plant had collided with his arm. Fortunately, he’d jerked back in time to avoid a deep cut in his skin.

“If the rest of the way is like this, we aren’t going to make your friend’s house by nightfall.”

She nodded, her hands on her hips. Her breath was labored from the difficulty of getting through the thick growth.

“We just have to keep going,” she said. “Every step is one step closer.”

He appreciated her optimism, but it was likely they might have to spend another night in the jungle.

Another night in the hammock with Elle.

Great. Probably add another couple years to how long it would take to get over her this time.

He put his head down and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. But five minutes later, he stopped. And listened.

Over the years, his senses had become finely attuned to the sounds of helicopters bringing wounded to the base medical camp. He could be in a dead sleep and somehow, he would wake up.

“What?” Elle asked, scanning the bushes and trees, probably thinking he’d seen something dangerous.

He almost didn’t want to tell her, didn’t want to get her hopes up. “Helicopter. Do you hear it?”

She stood very still and looked up. A minute later, she grinned. “I do. Oh, God. I do.”

Brody stopped to unzip his bag. “I’m going to grab the parachute. It’s the brightest thing we have. Maybe they will be able to see it from the air. There’s no place to land, but at least they’ll see us and know we’re here.”

When she didn’t answer, he looked up and realized that she’d run ahead, probably trying to get to a spot where they could see her.

Brody’s heart was thumping in his chest. He’d been confident that he and Elle had the stamina and the will to make it out of the jungle. But stamina and will could get sidelined fast by a bite from a poisonous spider or a broken ankle or any number of things that could happen on a stroll through the jungle. The helicopter coming was a great relief.

It would mean saying goodbye to Elle again.

He tried to push away the despair that settled over him. She’d probably be terribly relieved. She hadn’t spoken to him in over two hours after he’d verbally beaten her over the head this morning.

The helicopter was closer. Off to the left, above the tree line. Then he saw it. Dipping and swaying, avoiding the trees, obviously looking for something on the ground.

Looking for them. He started to run, hoping to catch up with Elle.

And, then, through a thin slit in the thick canopy of trees, he saw something incredible happen.

The helicopter stopped weaving and hovered and its side door opened. A man appeared.

Then Brody saw the big gun.

And it took him just a second to realize that the man was shooting.

At Elle.

* * *

S
HE
RAN
INTO
Brody hard enough that it knocked the wind out of her. Then he was yanking on her arm, dragging her behind one of the bigger trees in the deep foliage.

“What the hell?” he said.

If he expected an answer, he was out of luck. That man in the helicopter had been
shooting
at her. No one had ever shot at her before.

They could hear the helicopter hovering above, close enough that it was stirring the air and leaves were whirling. But what Brody had been bemoaning just minutes earlier was now saving their bacon. They were safely hidden and there was no place to land.

T. K. Jamas
. It had to be him. He had the resources to organize a private rescue effort and he had much to lose if she testified against him.

It was quite frankly almost impossible to get her head around the idea that the man had seen her, lifted his gun and started shooting. By some miracle, the first shot had landed at her feet. Whether it had been the fault of the pilot or the shooter, she was grateful. It had given her a chance to run and the next three shots had missed as well.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “This is all because of me.”

He stared at her, emotion flashing in his eyes. “Talk fast, Elle,” he said. “What the hell do you mean?”

“It’s a very long story. I’m on my way back to the States to testify against a man who at one time I trusted very much. I discovered that he was leading a human-trafficking ring and that most of his victims were eleven-and twelve-year-old girls. I think he may be determined that I don’t ever get a chance to tell my story.”

“His name,” Brody said, his tone insistent.

“T. K. Jamas. He’s Peruvian but has lived in Brazil for many years.”

Brody looked as if he had a hundred other questions but, to his credit, he didn’t ask them. When they heard the sound of the helicopter fading, he grabbed her hand. “Let’s go,” he said. “We need to get away from here. If you’re right, that helicopter is going to look for the closest space where they can land safely and then pursue us on foot.”

She hadn’t thought she could get any more terrified.

“I dropped my bag and the parachute when I saw that man shooting at you. Stay here while I get it,” he said.

She managed a nod.

While Brody was gone, the monkeys in the trees chattered at her, mad that she was in their space, mad that she’d brought the noisy beast with the rotating blades to their home.

Brody was the one who had a right to be furious. When he came back, she put her hand on his arm. “We need to separate. You keep going east. I’m going to head north.”

“But you said that your friend would help you.”

“I’m not going to lead Jamas to Leo’s door,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s bad enough that I’ve dragged you into my troubles. You need to get away. I don’t think there’s any way they could have seen you. You need to keep going, find Leo, and he’ll help you.”

“Stop talking,” Brody said.

“What?”

“I said, stop talking. If you’re only going to talk nonsense, then I don’t want to hear anything.”

Nonsense. She was trying to save his life. “Listen to me,” she said. “I think it’s possible that Jamas was responsible for the crash.”

“What?”

“Captain Ramano seemed mad at me and made odd comments that made me think that he thought I was responsible for the crash. He also knew about the school where I teach. Maybe Jamas paid Captain Ramano to crash the plane?”

Brody shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s a bad business proposition. Ramano was as likely to die as anyone else in a plane crash.”

Elle tried to think. “All I know is that Captain Ramano acted oddly toward me.”

“Not good enough,” Brody said. He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”

She took about ten steps before stopping. “What if Jamas was somehow responsible for the crash and he wanted to verify that everyone had died? What if he found the plane? He’s a horrible man. He may have killed everyone.”

Brody put his hands in the air. “I hope to hell you’re wrong, but right now we can’t think about that. We need to focus our energies on safely getting out of this jungle without anybody else shooting at us. We’re close to Mantau and to your friend Leo. We have to keep going. There’s no other choice.”

“But—”

“We’re not separating,” he said. “End of discussion. Is there any reason to think that Jamas knows that you would seek help from Leo?”

She thought. Had she ever mentioned Leo to Jamas? She didn’t think so. “No. But he knows the jungle well. He knows that Mantau is the closest village. He might suspect that I’m headed that way. He might also think, however, that I’m headed toward a river. That’s always the fastest way to travel in the jungle.”

“Okay, then we stay on course. We’re going to need to pick up the pace even more and if we hear the helicopter, make sure we stay out of sight.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I feel as if I’m destined to keep telling you that and I’m sure you aren’t all that impressed with my apologies, but I am truly sorry.”

He shook his head. “Elle, let’s just focus on the here and now. I think that’s about the best I can do. It sounds as if you’re trying to do a very good thing. You’re trying to make a monster pay for his crimes. You don’t have to apologize.”

For that,
she added silently. But he was right. Now wasn’t the time. They were literally running for their lives.

Two hours later, hot, exhausted and filthy, Elle almost welcomed the afternoon rain that hit with a vengeance. But Brody didn’t stop. Twice, they’d heard the helicopter and it had hovered over the thick canopy of trees, but still Brody had pushed ahead. He’d stopped marking the trail with the red strips of cloth. It would make it more difficult to find their way back to the plane but more difficult for Jamas to track them, as well.

She stepped over a rotting log and her foot slipped on the long wet grass. She went down.

Strong hands picked her up. “Are you hurt?” Brody asked, his voice close to her ear. Water ran down his face.

“My knee,” she said. “Went down hard on it. It’ll be fine.”

He knelt in front her, pulled her pants out of her dirty socks, and lifted up the wet material. With practiced hands, he felt around her leg, her knee. His skin was warm against her cold, wet legs.

“It looks okay,” he said. “Can you walk?” He stood up.

“Were you going to carry me?” she asked, trying to put a little levity into a very grim situation.

“I’ll do what I have to do,” he said.

It was the same thing he’d said when faced with the possibility of operating on Captain Ramano when there was concern about internal injuries.

Brody Donovan was that kind of guy. He’d do what he needed to do to get the job done.

“I can walk,” she said. “We have to be very close, maybe less than an hour from Mantau. As I recall, there are several trails that lead from the village into the jungle. The jungle provides many of the raw materials that the villagers use to survive and to eke out small livings. Once we hit one of those trails, we’re going to start to see people. We’ll need to be careful.”

“Why?”

“Jamas has a lot of money. I suspect that he’s already sent someone this direction, waving a handful of money, probably more than these people make in six months, asking for information about me. There’s no way that they wouldn’t turn us in for that kind of money.”

She could see the frustration on his face. Understood it.

“So we
are
going to need to split up,” she said. “I’ll stay back in the jungle while you go into town. Find Leo and come back for me.”

“No. I’m not leaving you,” he said.

“You have to. It’s the safest way. For you. For both of us.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue. Then he evidently changed his mind and before she realized what was happening, he was kissing her, his mouth hard, insistent.

They were filthy, in the middle of a steaming-hot jungle, with bad men chasing them, and she forgot it all. She was lost in the wonder of his kiss. The total abandon of caution.

She opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue. She pressed her body against his. Every curve fit, every touch burned.

“Oh, Brody,” she said when he finally lifted his head.

“Elle,” he whispered. “you have been amazing these last two days. So strong. So wise. I can’t imagine anyone who might have handled it better.”

She felt warm. There had been a time when praise like that from Brody would have meant everything to her. But now it was too late. Too much time had passed. They were different people.

She felt him lift her shirt and put the palm of his hand on her back. With his index finger, he traced her spine.

It didn’t feel different. It felt dazzlingly familiar.

He kissed her for a very long time. Finally, he lifted his head. “You keep apologizing but I’m the one who should be sorry,” he said. “I’ve been an ass toward you. I had thirteen years to get over being mad. I don’t know what got into me. I saw you and suddenly I was twenty-five again and all those old feelings came rushing back at me. It wasn’t fair to you. You had a right to end it.”

“I may have had a right, but I did it badly.”

“You were young.”

He was right. Just twenty-one. “It was a long time ago,” she said.

Could he forgive her? Could she forgive herself?

He held her. Tight. And she rested her head against his shoulder. “You should go,” she said finally. “You need to get into the village and back again before it gets dark.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said. “Not with those men looking for you.”

“I’ll be safe,” she said. “I’ll stay hidden.”

He kissed her again. More tenderly this time, more sensuously. He slid his hand from her back to her stomach, then up, until the pad of his thumb brushed across her nipple.

The sensation shot to her core and she wanted him with an intensity that she had not felt in many, many years. Thirteen years.

She arched her back. He raised her shirt, exposing her breast to the warm air, holding the weight of it in his hand.

“So pretty,” he murmured. His kisses traveled down her neck.

And when he took her breast in his mouth, her legs would have crumpled had he not been supporting her. “I smell,” she protested weakly.

“Wonderful,” he said.

She could feel him, his erection straining at his pants, pushing at her. She wanted him desperately.

But there was no time. “Brody,” she said, stepping away. She pulled down her shirt. “You have to go.”

He shook his head, as if to clear it. “I know, damn it. I know,” he added, his tone rueful. He looked in her eyes. “I’ll find your friend and we’ll be back. And you damn well better be here.”

* * *

B
RODY
CHANGED
INTO
his last clean shirt before he walked into Mantau. Elle was right in that the men in the helicopter probably hadn’t seen him. But if they had come upon the plane wreckage and talked to the other survivors, then they knew that Elle was not alone.