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“We shouldn’t be seen together any more than necessary,” Natalie said.
“Why not? We’ve shared a breathing apparatus, a fishing boat and a taxi.”
“Still. If there’s a chance of me being taken rather than one of the other girls, I’d rather it was me.”
Duff touched her cheek. “Again, they might not take you. Since we returned to the cave and those thugs fired at us, I’d say there is a strong possibility they’d shoot you rather than take you as a hostage.”
“How else am I supposed to find where they hid my sister? I can almost bet they won’t tell us if we ask.”
“Then we have to find a way to follow them to where they are hiding your sister and the other girls.”
“The longer she’s missing—”
“We’ll find her.” Duff tipped her chin upward and lowered his lips to hers. “I promise.”
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Table of Contents
Cover
Introduction
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Copyright
ELLE JAMES, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry 350-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at ellejames@earthlink.net or www.ellejames.com.
This book is dedicated to all those men and women who serve in the armed forces protecting our country and our way of life.
Thank you for your dedication and service.
Chapter One
“This is the life.” Dutton “Duff” Calloway stretched out on the lounge chair beside the pool and closed his eyes.
Sawyer handed Duff a chilled and fruity Pain Killer drink before easing into the chair beside him. “I’m surprised all four of us were granted leave at the same time.” He pulled the colorful miniature umbrella out of a chunk of pineapple and dropped it on the end table between them.
Duff downed a third of the drink. Normally he preferred an ice-cold beer. But the combination of orange juice, pineapple and whatever else went into the icy concoction was refreshing and helped add to the sense of relaxation he’d hoped to find in Cancun, Mexico. “I didn’t look that gift horse in the mouth. I took the leave and ran.”
“Flew,” Sawyer corrected. “Yeah, I wasn’t questioning our luck, either.”
Duff shaded his eyes and stared past the palm trees to the beach beyond. “Where do you suppose Quentin and Montana got off to?”
“They said something about reserving a diving excursion for tomorrow. I told them to sign us up while they were at it.”
Duff closed his eyes and soaked in the warm rays of sunshine. “Sounds good. After our last mission to clean up that terrorist training camp in Honduras, I’m satisfied to just be a bum and let the hotel staff and excursion coordinators do all the work.”
Sawyer crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back, grinning. “Yeah. This is the life.”
Duff’s grin matched Sawyer’s. “No boss, no guns, no terrorists. Just me, my friends and this...” He lifted the Pain Killer. “Now all we need is a good beer.”
“And women,” Sawyer added.
Silently, Duff agreed. How many months had it been since he’d been with one? He sighed. Too many to count.
A giggle sounded at the opposite end of the pool and the tittering of female voices drifted through the balmy air.
Sawyer leaned his head up. “Speak of the devils.”
Life couldn’t get more perfect. Duff swallowed more of the fruity drink.
The gaggle of young ladies appeared to be college-aged, all wearing bikinis and makeup, and carrying beach bags filled with towels and sunscreen.
Duff sighed. “Too young.”
“Hey. We’re not old men, yet.” Sawyer sat up and studied the women as they strolled past their lounge chairs, headed for the beach. “Oh, wait. You are an old man at the ripe old age of thirty.”
“That’s right. And twenty-year-old, vapor-headed women don’t do it for me. I like mine more mature.”
“Here you go.” Sawyer chuckled. “Mature women, three o’clock.”
Two women who couldn’t be a day under fifty strolled by.
Duff nodded. “I bet they know a lot more about passion than the girls headed for the beach.”
“What about her?” Sawyer tipped his head toward the woman who’d just stepped out of the resort building. She wore a one-piece black swimsuit, the front cut in a sharp V down past her navel, her blond hair loose around her shoulders. Pausing for a moment at the door, she slipped sunglasses onto her nose. Then she strode across the concrete, her bare feet tipped in bright red polish.
His pulse quickening, Duff couldn’t take his gaze off her. Now, this was a woman. She couldn’t be much older than the college girls, but she carried herself like a model, placing one foot in front of the other, emphasizing the sway of well-rounded hips. As she passed in front of Duff and Sawyer, Duff’s jaw dropped.
A low whistle from the lounge at his side said it all.
The woman’s one-piece dipped low in the back and wasn’t much more than a G-string, exposing a lush bottom with tight glutes.
Another chuckle sounded beside him. “I’ll take that as a yes. And if you don’t go after that one, I will,” Sawyer said.
“Who said anything about going after her?”
“Not interested?” Sawyer swung his legs over the side of the lounge and stood. “You might want to lie in the sun all day, drinking Pain Killers...” He raised his hands. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. But I want to feel a woman beneath me, calling out my name in the night. And I believe she’s the one.” Sawyer touched two fingers to his temple in mock salute. “See ya later.”
“Good luck.” Duff leaned back and closed his eyes. Yes, she was gorgeous and made his blood hum through his veins. He wouldn’t mind seducing her into his bed. If he wasn’t so darned tired, he’d follow her out to the beach with Sawyer and give the poor boy a little competition.
A yawn crept over him and he set his cool drink on the table beside him. Later.
Besides, he was on vacation and had no intention of working too hard. Women tended to be high-maintenance and time-intensive. After he got a satisfying nap, he might consider striking up a conversation with the sexy blonde. Until then...
He yawned and stretched. The sun warmed his skin and soothed his soul. Duff fully appreciated this nice place free of gunfire and explosions.
Yeah, this was the life.
As soon as he settled his body against the lounge chair, something bounced off his head.
Duff jackknifed to a sitting position and faced a small child, her big brown eyes round and frightened. “I’m sorry, mister.” Her gaze darted to the beach ball rolling beneath his chair.
Duff reached down and extracted the ball, handing it to the child.
“Thank you.” She smiled and ran back to the pool where what appeared to be her sister and two brothers stood near the edge, all under the age of ten.
“Last one in is a rotten egg,” the tallest brother called out. The girls squealed and all four children launched themselves into the water, splashing Duff.
They came up talking and squealing.
So much for peace and quiet. Duff couldn’t blame the kids. They were having a great time. He would have done the same.
Instead of grousing over a missed nap, he rose and followed Sawyer out to the beach. If he had to be awake, he might as well enjoy the scenery on the beach. Sawyer was sure to strike out with the blonde, and Duff would ask her if she’d like to have drinks later.
The worst she could do was say no.
* * *
NATALIE LAYNE STEPPED onto the Cancun beach, her toes curling into the warm, white sand. She’d followed her sister’s footsteps as closely as possible without having her sister there to guide her. A week ago Melody had come to the resort with her Kappa Delta sorority sisters. Six young women with nothing but fun in the sun on their minds.
As Melody’s only living relative, Natalie had asked her younger sister to report in each day. Melody had happily complied, texting each evening, letting Natalie know she was okay and having a great time. Until the fourth day.
Natalie’s chest tightened. She hadn’t received the call until late that night when a heavily accented voice came over the line announcing, “We are most sorry to report that your sister, Melody Layne, disappeared on a dive this afternoon at approximately three o’clock.”
Having lost their parents two years before to a ten-car pileup on Interstate 10, Natalie hadn’t been able to grasp what the man was saying.
Her sister? Disappeared? “What do you mean disappeared?”
“She was diving with a boat operated by Scuba Cancun. When she didn’t come up with the others, the dive boat operator searched but could not find her.”
A hundred questions had raced through her head as she’d held the phone to her ear. “What else has been done to find my sister?” she’d asked, her voice sounding as if it came from someone else down a long tunnel.
Her sister. Gone.
Natalie had given up the highly volatile and extremely rewarding career she loved as a special agent to return to New Orleans to see her sister through high school graduation and the start of college. Someone had to be there for her after their parents died.
Now this.
No way.
Natalie had taken the information from the Cancun police officer and hung up. Stunned and numb, she’d turned to her computer. She’d been leery of her sister traveling to Mexico. The endless reports of corruption in the Mexican government and law enforcement had been enough to convince Natalie it had been a bad idea.
Melody had insisted Cancun was insulated from the corruption and had its own security to protect the thriving tourist industry.
At the time Melody was making arrangements to go, Natalie should have put her foot down. Not that it would have done any good.
Melody had a mind of her own and the money their parents had left. She had reached the age of majority and could make reservations without her sister’s consent. And she had.
That gut feeling had proved right.
Within minutes of receiving the call, Natalie had hit the number for her former employer, Royce Fontaine, and asked for help.
As the head of the Stealth Operations Specialists, he could help her as no one else could.
“Natalie, are you ready to come back to work for us?” He’d chuckled. “Travel journalism too tame?”
“Royce, I need your help.”
The laughter ceased. “Name it. We’re here for you.”
She’d explained the situation and paused for him to digest the information.
“I’ll run a scan on the area to see if there are any other occurrences of missing women,” Royce told her. “You’re right to be suspicious.”
“Let me know what you find. In the meantime, I’m headed to Cancun.”
“Will do,” Royce said. “I’ll send Lance Johnson out on the private jet with the equipment you’ll need to keep you wired so that we can find you if you run into difficulty.”
“Thanks, Royce. I knew I could count on you.”
“Anytime. I had Lance lined up to take on another mission tomorrow, but I can take it myself.”
“I hate to pull you from other important assignments—”
“Nat, we’re talking about your sister. Family comes first. That’s why I’m sending Lance. Technically he’s as good as Geek and a better shot if you need backup.”
“Good.” Natalie’s mind had already been five steps ahead, working through everything she had to accomplish before leaving for Mexico. “I don’t expect any cooperation from the Mexican government or police.”
“Look, why don’t you fly in the corporate jet with Lance? It’ll save you time and money.”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking I need to perform this mission undercover. I might get more answers that way.”
“Fair enough. But you’ll get there faster on the SOS plane than flying commercial. I can have Lance dropped at a different airport. He’ll meet up with you later. That way you arrive separately.”
“Agreed. As long as I’m in Cancun by tomorrow.”
“You will be.”
While Natalie packed for Cancun, she went through her text messages and photos from Melody, searching for clues. Her mind played through many scenarios for what might have happened to her sister, each one worse than the last.
When her cell phone rang she was so deep into her thoughts, she jumped.
“It’s not good, I’m afraid,” Royce said without a greeting.
Natalie’s heart plummeted into her belly. “What did you find?”
“In the past two days three young women under the age of twenty-five have disappeared from the Cancun resort area and Riviera Cancun.”
“Why hasn’t it been in the news?”
“All three were from different countries—Sweden, Australia and now the US. To each country, it was a solitary incident. The Mexican government isn’t advertising this as a serial event. Contacts in Cancun say they’re treating two of them as individual unfortunate incidents.”
Rage shot through Natalie. “Bull! Three women? Did they all disappear diving?”
“Two diving. The third? They claim the young woman wandered off and probably fell into an abandoned underground tunnel associated with the Mayan ruins located at Chichén Itzá, a little over an hour outside Cancun.”
Natalie couldn’t believe in this day and age any country would give up that soon. But then Mexico had its share of internal issues. The police force could be run by the local drug cartel. They might not have an interest in finding the women. “Did the authorities even try to find the women?”
“My contact said they gave it a perfunctory look and abandoned the search when it grew dark. If you go—”
“There’s no if,” Natalie said. “I’m going.”
“Of course.” Royce continued. “You have your extra passports, yes?”
“I do.”
“Pick one that’s foreign, but not Australia or Sweden. And stay blonde. The three women thus far were all blonde.”
“Nice to know.”
“I had Geek run a background check on their families. They were from rather small families who have little money to pay ransom, much less to pursue lengthy litigation or to hire private investigators to search for their daughters.”
Natalie’s jaw hardened. The women were targeted for their blond hair, youth and their family’s lack of financial backing.
“So what you’re telling me is that you don’t think they were snatched for ransom.”
“No.” Royce’s single word in that flat tone said it all.
If the women had been kidnapped, their captors weren’t going to bargain to give them back. They would be sold or drugged and forced into the sex trade.
Forcing the emotion out of her heart, Natalie said, “The sooner we find them the better off they’ll be.”
“Right.” Royce gave her the details about meeting Lance at the New Orleans airport the following morning.
Once she ended the call, she sat back, tapping her bare toe, while she sifted through her passports. Part of her old life as an agent, the passports were vital to getting around the world without raising suspicion. Though she’d given up her job as an agent, Natalie had been hesitant to destroy the passports. Now she was glad she hadn’t.
Picking the United Kingdom passport, she stared at the image inside. The likeness was still valid: blond hair, blue eyes. And the woman in the photo looked like her with shorter hair. Hell, it was her, three years ago when she’d been active as an agent, sent all over the US and other countries to do what the CIA, FBI or Interpol either couldn’t do or hadn’t successfully managed to accomplish.
The passport would serve its purpose to get her past authorities and establish her as a young, single woman of limited assets and family connections on vacation in Cancun.
With the backing of her old team, she made hotel reservations for the same resort where Melody and her friends had stayed, using her UK alias, Natalia Scranton, age twenty-three.
Sleep had been impossible, but she’d tried anyway, keeping her cell phone on the pillow beside her in case, by some miracle, Melody was able to text her.
The next day she’d met Lance at the airport and climbed aboard the SOS private plane. Once the plane took off, Lance came at her with a loaded syringe.
Natalie held up her hand. “Stop.”
“You need to be tagged with a tracking device. Should whoever took the other girls manage to snag you, we’ll need to follow you to wherever they’ve taken you and the others.”
“Yeah, but why the syringe? Can’t I keep a tag in my pocket?”
“That would be fine if you were wearing clothing with pockets at all times. I suspect, since we’ll be at a resort, you will be wearing a bathing suit.”
“I could sew the device into the suit.”
“Will you sew one into every item of clothing you could possibly wear?”
Natalie frowned. “Maybe. I’ve just never liked the idea of being tracked all the time, by anybody.”
“In this case, it’s for your protection.”
“Okay, but put it somewhere I can dig it out if I decide I don’t like it anymore.”
“Sure. Where would you like it?”
“Between my toes.” She lifted the hem of her sundress and held out her leg.
Lance injected the tracking microchip and sat back in his seat with a hand-held device. He hit the on switch and waited. “There.” He pointed to the dot on the screen. “There you are. Now, if you’re swimming, scuba diving or taking a shower naked, we’ll be able to find you.”
Natalie snorted. “Nice to know I’ll have company in the shower.”
Lance grinned and opened an aluminum suitcase. From it, he selected what appeared to be a tiny hearing aid and handed it to her. “You remember how these work?”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get to the good stuff.” She leaned toward the suitcase and plucked out an H&K .40-caliber pistol and several boxes of rounds. “I prefer the stopping power of a .45 caliber or 9 mm, but the smaller weapon will be easier to hide.”
“Exactly.” He handed her a set of throwing knives similar to the ones she had locked in her safe at home in New Orleans.
Natalie ran her hand over the handles, wishing she had time to practice throwing. These, too, she had given up when she’d decided to retire from SOS operations. How would she explain to Melody the need to have her own set of knives, especially when she was terrible in the kitchen?
Melody had no idea what Natalie had done before she’d returned home to New Orleans to be there for her after their parents died. Her sister thought she had given up the boring desk job in DC, the first job she’d taken when she’d finished college.
That seemed such a long time ago.
Loaded with all the equipment and weaponry she could easily hide in her suitcases, in the room or on her person, Natalie arrived at the hotel, smiling like a young single woman on vacation, ready to soak up the sun and play in the sand.
She greeted the desk clerk in an English accent she’d perfected when Royce had assigned her to a case in Oxford, England. Despite staying there, she was so busy working the case, she didn’t have time to play tourist and get to know the area. She asked for a room on the same floor as the one her sister had shared with her three girlfriends from college. Hopefully she’d find out more by hanging out with them at the bar, if they hadn’t already gone home, frightened by the loss of their roommate.
As soon as she unpacked her suitcase and stowed her weapons in the room’s lockbox, she stripped out of her sundress and pulled on the sexy swimsuit her sister had insisted she buy. She had, against her better judgment. Whatever made Melody happy made Natalie happy.
In what little there was of the black suit, Natalie had to agree with Lance and the subcutaneous injection of the tracking device. Anything other than her body beneath the suit would have stood out.
Dressed for the beach and hanging out with young people, Natalie grabbed a beach towel and sunglasses and headed down to the lobby. She passed through the lobby and out to the pool area, checking out all of the people she passed, wondering if one of them was behind her sister’s disappearance. None of the young women looked anything like those in Melody’s selfies.
Once out on the beach, she noted someone changing the yellow flag to red, indicating it was dangerous to swim.
Mothers herded children out of the shallows and teens frowned and complained as they slogged through the water to shore. A group of young women in colorful bikinis stood in water up to their waists, taking pictures of each other. The man hoisting the red flag, waved for them to return to shore, yelling something about riptides.
Natalie glanced farther down the shoreline, thankful for her sunglasses. The white sand was bright behind her lenses, but without the glasses the beach would be blinding.
Sand crunched beside her and a shadow crossed over her face.
Natalie tensed.
“Looking for someone?” a deep male voice asked.
She turned toward the man wearing nothing but black swim trunks and a smile. And, good Lord, he didn’t need anything else. Suntanned and tattooed, his body was magnificent, his white teeth shining in his tanned cheeks. Dark hair, dark eyes and a friendly face topped him off.
“Not particularly,” she answered, remembering to use the proper British accent before promptly turning the other way.
“Name’s Sawyer,” he said. “Me and my buddies just got here today.”
“That’s lovely.” As handsome and well-muscled as the man was, he wasn’t in Natalie’s plan. She was there for her sister, not to flirt with muscle-bound men in sexy black swim trunks.
“Bug off, Sawyer,” another voice said from behind Natalie and she spun to face an even taller man with jet-black hair and a jaw that looked hard enough to crack walnuts.
She tipped her sunglasses down, curious about the true color of his eyes. Her heart fluttered as the deep green orbs stared down into hers and took her breath away.
No. She didn’t have time for the sudden tug of attraction. If she knew for certain where her sister was and that she was all right, Natalie might consider flirting with this incredibly handsome man with the tribal tattoos on his shoulders.
“Excuse us,” he said. “It’s been a while since we’ve been around a beautiful woman.”