Chapter Fifteen
Jake paced the lavish master bedroom, with its deep carpet and antique four-poster, where matronly, heavyset Detective Inspector Edwards, the head of the operation, prepped Gabby for the meeting with Dean. She’d run Gabby’s wires under her first layer of clothes and tested her equipment while giving her basic instructions. Luckily it was cold outside, so all the layers would hide the electronics.
Charlie had texted earlier that he had turned the Son statue over to the police. It’d be returned to its rightful owners. So half the problem had been solved. Hopefully, Dean would show up with the Father statue as planned. Then the police would arrest him and Garza’s men, and the Father statue could go back to DC where it belonged.
He’d promised Gabby he wouldn’t mention her father’s presence to the detective, as much as it went against his grain. But Moretti hadn’t done anything except look out for his daughter so far, so he’d concede there. If Gabby’s father killed Garza’s son, Pablo, then things with Gabby would get a whole lot more complicated.
The policewoman left to retrieve glasses with a built-in camera, so Jake adjusted Gabby’s Kevlar vest and then checked her audio one last time himself. He couldn’t let anything go wrong. The British police had all been accommodating and professional, but he still had a bad feeling about the meeting between Gabby and Dean.
He asked, “Vest feel okay?”
Gabby nodded. “It’s bulky. But not too bad.”
“Good.” Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Or, maybe it was because he’d never used someone he cared about as bait.
The detective might be back any second, so he grabbed the gun he’d taken from Will and stuffed it into her backpack. “Let’s keep this on the down low. How are your self-defense skills?” Weapons weren’t all she might need. Especially if Dean tried to kidnap Gabby. At least she had some height on the guy.
She glanced up at him. “I have a black belt in karate. But I’ve never had to use it other than on sparring partners.”
One more surprising fact about her.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and twisted her in front of him, his forearm across her chest, a tight grip on her right upper arm, leaving his “weapon” hand free. He poked a finger against her forehead. The most common hold a gunman taking a hostage assumed. “How would you get out of this?”
In the blink of an eye, her hand slapped his away from her head at the same time that her foot wrapped around his leg and tugged, upsetting his balance. With both hands on his forearm, she sent him flying over her shoulder. He landed with a thump on his back. Before he could roll over, she stepped on his wrist with the heavy boots they’d dressed her in, to secure his “weapon.” And then she dropped her knee to his chest, making the air whoosh from his lungs, to hold him in place. It made him damn proud.
She leaned down and laid a quick kiss on his lips. “Feel better now?”
“No. That hurt. Maybe if you’d kiss me again, I’d feel better.”
Gabby’s dimples flashed as she moved her sharp knee off his chest and then obliged him. Her kisses always held a blend of sweetness and heat he’d come to crave. And when they’d made love earlier, something new had pulled at his gut and heart simultaneously. His usual need to be in charge of the touching when in bed was easy to set aside with her. Instead, he’d wanted to please her and, in doing so, had been sated, too. And relaxed enough to hold her afterward. Something he’d rarely done even while married. How was he ever going to let Gabby go once they got back home?
She slowly ended their kiss, then jumped up and held out a hand to help him. He stood and wrapped her in a hug. “Do what you have to do to defend yourself, okay? Even if that means shooting someone. Promise?”
She moved her mouth near his ear, her warm breath sending a whole new spike of desire straight to his gut. “I’ll try. But I’m glad to know the cops, you, and my father are going to be nearby. My own personal army. Which reminds me . . .” She took her cell from her back pocket and typed “Benji” into a text box but didn’t hit “Send.” “I need to have this ready just in case.”
It had to be a code word between her and her father.
He handed over her forty-pound backpack. “Here’s everything you own.”
“Very funny.” She took the bag and smirked. “A girl needs her stuff.”
She might need the gun inside. He hoped she’d be brave enough to shoot someone if she had to.
The detective inspector returned and made the final adjustments to Gabby’s glasses. She said, “All set. Jake, you can send Dean the text now. Just about ready to go.”
He grabbed Will’s phone from his pocket while Gabby finished getting dressed with layers of clothes to hide the wires and vest. She needed a jacket to cover up the shape the vest would make. Especially since Gabby mentioned Dean made a habit of studying her chest. Which pissed him off even more. Using more force than was necessary, he typed:
Think we know where to find the Son statue. I’ll let you know. Still meeting with Gabby at 10:00 at the park?
After a few moments, a reply came.
Yes. 10. Then we’ll find it together. Where is it?
Jake ran a few of the responses he’d discussed with the cops earlier through his head.
They sent the art dealer to get it at some church while Gabby meets you. I’ll stay here and then let you know if they find it.
Jake studied the screen, holding his breath, hoping Dean wouldn’t ask Will to accompany Gabby to the park, or the jig might be up. Finally, the phone chimed.
Do as we talked about as soon as you see the statue. And say your good-byes to Gabby, bro. She’ll be all mine after she sees how I rescued her precious statues. Not that you ever had a real chance with her.
Jake blinked at the screen. What the hell did that mean? “Gabby, have you and Dean ever dated?”
“No!” Gabby made a gagging sound, and the detective chuckled.
“Did he ever ask you out?”
Gabby stood in front of the mirror, studying her new badass reflection—a leather jacket, jeans, and biker boots equipped with steel toes. “Once. But I told him I’d never date a coworker, much less my boss, so he backed off. Mostly. Except for staring at me all the time when he thought I wasn’t looking. Why?”
He tilted the phone’s screen so she and the other detective could read it for themselves.
Detective Edwards frowned at the screen. “Sibling rivalry maybe. Shall we go, then?”
“Yep. Let me send this text, and then we’re out.” Jake wrote back to Dean, relieved he didn’t appear to have any plans to harm Gabby.
Gabby’s into someone else anyway. I’ll check in later.
Dean wrote right back.
Not after today. Let me know if they find the statue.
Will do.
He stuffed the phone in his back pocket and followed behind the two women. Downstairs, the dining room was full of cops waiting to monitor Gabby as well as the officers already in position at the park.
He took Gabby’s hand as they silently followed the detective outside to what looked like a cab and slid into the back seat. His heart beat a double-time tattoo while all the ways the meeting could go wrong flashed through his mind. Chances of Dean being alone were slim. It’d be tough to slip away from Garza’s men. And Moretti’s minions were wild cards.
They’d gone over all the different scenarios they could think of, and Detective Edwards would instruct Gabby with the tiny mic in her ear, but still. He turned to her and forced a smile. “Not too late to back out.”
She shook her head. “I need for Dean to confess what he did to frame me while everyone is listening. Just in case Garza’s men decide to off the rat after they get what they want.”
He smiled. Gone was the timid woman who’d never hurt a fly, replaced by the brave version. He hoped she could stay tough. “Remember, if he has the statue—”
“I know. We’ve been all through this, Jake.” She gave his forearm a squeeze.
Detective Edwards called out. “I’ll drop you here, Gabby. That couple over there will keep an eye on you while you make your way across the park to the meeting point, then they’ll move on. Just follow the path. All the people round the fountain are undercover cops, so please don’t make eye contact unless you need help. We’ll be on the other side, in the van, watching and listening. Good luck.”
“Thanks. See you in a few.” Gabby leaned in to Jake for a quick kiss, then laid her fingers over his lips to prevent him from saying anything. “I’ll be fine, Jake.”
She got out and headed for the fountain in Hyde Park they’d chosen near the street. His mood was as gray as the day, with heavy clouds of doubt looming above. He hoped to God it wasn’t a mistake to send her out there.
He kept an eye on her and the couple who followed a short distance behind as long as he could. Finally, he lost sight of them as the car made its way around the corner to join the surveillance team.
The way Gabby had deliberately straightened her shoulders had sent a pang to his heart. She was probably scared to death.
DI Edwards said, “Gabby, please cough once if you can hear me.” After a moment, Edwards whispered, “Perfect. And the glasses are sending video. All good to go, Gabby.” The cop met Jake’s gaze in the mirror. “She’s in good hands. We’ll keep her safe.”
“Counting on that.” He hoped the detective was right.
Gabby walked steadily to the meeting place. Growing up, she’d been to many events in the same park, but all those times had been happy ones, with festivals and concerts.
She followed the path that cut through the grass and trees on either side, reminding herself to breathe. The cold seeping into her lungs should have made her shiver, but instead, her nerves kept the blood flowing at a stellar pace, heating her veins.
The police had picked the park because not too many civilians were bound to linger in February’s cold, wet air in the remote section of greenery.
She’d studied the area on Google Earth until her eyes bled earlier that morning. Now, as she approached the meeting site, her heart rate tripled from its already accelerated pace, making her head feel light.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. I can do this.
There were a few benches set in a circle around the silent fountain that depicted a woman hunting with a bow and arrow. The foliage surrounding the fountain would have been dense in the summer but now was stark and lifeless.
The benches were occupied by two couples and a single woman, and then Dean. He had a smile on his face and stood as she approached.
“Hi, Gabby. I almost didn’t recognize you with the glasses and new hair. Great to see you.”
Great to see her? Why was he acting like they were old friends happy to see each other? “Dean. You’ve been a busy man.” She quickly sat on the bench and laid her bag at her feet. Dean had a bag with him, too, and she hoped he’d brought the Father statue. Maybe they could end things quickly.
A soft voice in her ear whispered, “Ask to see the statue as soon as you can.”
Dean sat beside her and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’ve been busy planning our new life.” He reached into his coat pocket and sent a spike of fear up her spine. Was he reaching for a gun?
He withdrew a British passport. “We both have new identities, Gabby. All we have to do is hand over the pair of statues, and we can start our new lives together.”
“What do you mean?” His words hit her as hard as if he’d slapped her. But staying in character, she said, “I thought we were going to sell them and then give the money to the museum.”
He shook his head as he opened the passport. It had her picture on it and a new name. “You don’t understand, Gabby. This is your ticket out.”
He wasn’t making sense. “My ticket out from what?”
“We’ll go to Peru and participate in digs as you’ve always said you wanted to do. You don’t have any family, and I only have Will, so what’s stopping us from living our dream? Together. You know we were made for each other.”
Oh, hell no.
The detective’s voice said, “Go with it. Tell him you still need the Son statue. Don’t upset him.”
Don’t upset him? The guy was insane. She’d never given him any signals that she was interested in him. But she had a job to do, so she took a second and refocused her emotions. “Well, first we need both statues. Can I see the Father? Did you bring him?”
“He’s right here.” Dean quickly surveyed the area before he slid his bag into her hand.
She peeked inside and found the Father statue beaming up at her. And the pattern on the tunic was right. Thank God.
Dean’s lips tilted into a sick grin. “We’ll sell the pair tonight and then head for the airport. I have it all planned out.”
Her stomach took a fast dive. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Dean.”
He closed the bag and laid it at his feet. “You said you’d never date a coworker, so I found a way we could be together.”
She shook her head. “No offense, but I’ve never thought of you like that. And I love my job in DC.”
“You thought I was off-limits, so you just haven’t had time to see how great we’d be together. That’s all. In time, you’ll see things like I do.” His jaw clenched. “And you can’t ever go back to the museum, Gabby. All the evidence from the statue theft points to you. They must have warrants out for your arrest by now. Don’t you see? I did all of this for you. So we could be together. Now let’s go get that other statue.”
Warrants for her arrest? The guy was beyond crazy.
More like he did it so he could kidnap her. Make her too afraid to go home and be arrested. She’d just risked everything for an artifact.
The detective whispered, “Slowly stand. Tell him to follow you. Lead him close to the couple to your right. Then hit the ground.”
Think straight. Stop freaking out about Dean and his delusions.
“It sounds like you’ve been planning this elaborate scheme for a while, huh, Dean?”
Dean’s eyes lit up, making him seem even crazier. “For months, Gabby. Getting the passports hadn’t been easy, but they’re good ones. I hadn’t counted on Will finding the map instead of the statue in New Mexico, either, so I had to stall for some time. Originally, I was going to meet you at the dig site, get you out of DC before the cops arrested you, but this way worked out just as well. I knew you trusted Will and would help him read the map if you thought it’d save me. Because you love me as much as I love you, right? We make a great team, don’t we?”
Oh God. How hadn’t she seen how disturbed he was before? Probably because she spent most of her time at work avoiding him.
“Sure. Um. The other statue’s not far. Come with me.” She stood and picked up her backpack, ready to take a dive at the earliest opportunity, when Dean’s hand snaked out and grabbed her left arm to stop her. Then he slapped a handcuff on her wrist.
She glanced down at their bound hands, and her stomach did a nasty flip. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, but they made me do this.” He slowly unzipped his jacket. “It’s insurance my business partners needed. They’ll blow us both up if we try to escape with the statues.”
Gabby sucked in a sharp breath. Dean wore a bomb strapped to a vest. How had things gone so terribly wrong? And what was she supposed to do now?
“Stay calm. Do as he says, Gabby,” Detective Edwards said in her ear.
They hadn’t planned on Dean being certifiably crazy. It was getting hard to breathe.
Dean stood way too close and whispered, “The man who wants the statues has the detonator. He’s right over there.” He pointed to a man who stood fifty yards away, holding something in his hand. The man waved.
She closed her eyes to hold back the panic that engulfed her body, paralyzing her senses, making it hard to hear Dean’s words clearly. She had to pull it together. There were people around to help her. Could they help her? She opened her eyes, hoping to see where the hell her bodyguards, Sal and Louie, were.
Her eyes still worked, even if her feet felt like they were encased in cement. She finally spotted Sal, probably a hundred yards away. She wanted to signal for help, but if they shot Dean or the other guy, she could be dead, too.
The detective’s strained voice commanded, “Everyone hold positions. Let them leave.”
She was going to have to save herself. But how? Should she send her father the signal? No, he might not know about the bomb.
Dean’s cold, clammy fingers intertwined with hers as he tugged her toward a path. “You want me to carry your backpack, Gabby?”
“No.” She shook her head and forced her feet to move forward. “I’m good.” And there was a gun in there. She’d have to use it. If she could.
“Okay. Let’s hurry and get that statue. I booked us on a flight for Peru tonight. We’ll be on our way in hours.”
Her stomach did another nasty flip. “I don’t want to go to Peru, Dean. You can have the statue, but I don’t want to go away forever. I have a life.” Tears formed in her eyes as a vision of Jake entered her mind. “I’ve met—”
“Stop.” The detective’s raised voice in her ear startled her. “You have to make him think you’ll go. Buy us some time, Gabby. You’re doing well.”
Dean’s face crumpled with fury. “You’d rather spend the rest of your life in jail rather than with me?” He wrenched her handcuffed wrist forward. Hard.
She whimpered. She couldn’t help it. The metal was too tight. It dug into her skin, as it was. When he pulled, it sent radiating pain up her arm.
Home. She just wanted to go home, where it was safe.
Jake’s voice sounded in her ear. “Babe. We’re on top of it. Hang tough. I promise everything will be fine.”
Hearing Jake’s voice choked her up, but his promise gave her the shot of courage she needed. He’d save her. Somewhere deep inside she knew that.
She bit her lip, pulled it together, and nodded her head so Jake could see through her video glasses that she’d heard him.
She said, “No, I don’t want to go to jail. It just came as a shock, I guess. Peru will be wonderful. Living there, being part of a dig. That is what I’ve always wanted.” She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat and walked beside Dean as they approached a big, white moving van.
Dean’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he let up on the tension on her wrist. “It’s going to be awesome. Let’s go get that statue before your friend finds it.”
What would they do to her when they found out the statue wasn’t there? She glanced over her shoulder. The man working with Dean was a few paces behind, as were Sal and probably a cop or two.
As they approached the truck, Pablo Garza appeared and opened the rear cargo doors. The man who’d killed her mother and brother.
Tears formed in her eyes. Would he kill her, too? Seeing the hate shining in the man’s dead eyes made her father’s need for revenge clearer now. Garza was pure evil. And was probably in her father’s cross hairs. She prayed her father wouldn’t shoot him, though. It could get them all blown up.
They were in way over their heads. Garza’s crew were professional killers. She and Dean didn’t have a chance.
Pablo took her by the elbow, Dean by the scruff of the neck, and roughly shoved them both into the back of the truck. Pablo asked, “Where to, Gabby?” He grabbed the Father statue from Dean’s grip.
Jake’s voice in her ear said, “Tell him where we found it. We’ll move people in place.”
She barely squeaked out, “Paddington Cemetery,” around the fear that had crept into her throat.
After the doors had slammed closed behind them, she expected to be in complete darkness in the boxy truck, but there was a skylight on the roof. Could they climb out of that? As she and Dean wrestled to sit against the side while shackled together, she said, “Some friend, Dean. Shoving us around. They aren’t going to let us go. We have to try to escape.”
Dean shook his head and settled in beside her, wiping the blood from a small cut on his face from the rough floor. “He was just in a hurry. Will told us you came here with a cop, so they’re pissed. That’s all. We just have to hand them over the statues, and then we’re good.”
They were far from good. They were going to die if she didn’t do something.
“Don’t you see? We’re witnesses, Dean. They can’t let us live!”
He shook his head. “Trust me. They just want to make money. Pablo said people like them never get caught by the police. They don’t care about people like us.”
Dean wasn’t only crazy. He was an idiot.
Jake’s voice whispered, “Do you have a knife in your backpack? Something we can use to cut wires? Tilt your glasses up and down for yes.”
She forced her scattered mind to focus. She didn’t have a knife. But she had sharp clippers in her kit. How could she tell him that without blowing her cover? She turned to Dean. “I have my field kit to dig up the statue, but if it’s hidden behind some brick or stone around the grave, I only have clippers. Do you have something sharper?”
Dean blinked at her for a moment, then shook his head. “No. But they have everything we need up front in the cab. I gave them a list of materials.”
Good. Maybe I can distract them and buy time by asking them to dig, too.
Jake said, “You need to hit Dean over the head with your backpack, Gabby. Harder than you hit me that day. Then use your steel-toe boots after that. Knock him out. Then we’ll work that bomb. We only have a few minutes.”
Her right hand tightened around her backpack. If the bomb was neutralized, they would have a chance. But would it go off if she hit him? Could she kick him in the head? She could kill him.
Jake whispered, “It’s your life or his. Do it. For me, Gabby. So we can be together again.”
He was right. She might never see Jake again if she didn’t do it. Or her father, or her aunt. Or Einstein. Never have the chance to go on a real dig someday, as was always her dream.
She grabbed her bag, closed her eyes, and then swung it across her body with all her might.
“Whaaaa.” Dean’s head flew back and hit the side of the truck with a sick thud as the backpack fell into his lap. She took their bound hands and laid them against the side of the truck to help her stand, and then she kicked him. He fell to his side, so she kicked him again.
When he lay still, his eyes closed, she quickly dug into her backpack for her gun and then the clippers. She was saving his damn life, too. She needed to remember that.
Jake said, “Good job. Roll him on his back and open up his jacket so we can see the bomb.”
Gabby blinked away her tears, but like a robot she did as Jake said. She moved her glasses closer so they could see the wires and what looked like batteries tucked into the little pockets.
The van rounded a corner fast, throwing them both against the side of the truck. After the vehicle had straightened again, she straddled Dean’s legs for stability and searched for the damn clippers in her backpack. Jake was right. She did have too much crap in there.
Another cop’s voice filled her ear. “Okay, Gabby. Listen and please do exactly as I say.” Had to be a bomb expert.
She blinked away her tears and tried to concentrate on the voice in her ear, moving wires gently with her fingers for him to see through her glasses. God, what if she tugged the wrong one? They’d all be blown to bits.
She had to stop thinking about that and concentrate on the words in her ear. After moving her head slowly so the camera got a view of the entire bomb, the voice asked her to move a red wire gently aside so he could see underneath. It revealed a rat’s nest of different colored wires below that. How would anyone know which one to cut?
“Okay, Gabby, could you move to the one on top of the battery on the right? The blue one, please? Just give it a little nudge aside.”
With shaking hands, she slowly hooked her index finger around the blue wire and moved it to the left. As she did that, it sprang loose, exposing a bare copper end. “Oh crap!” She closed her eyes and waited for the explosion to hit, as thoughts slammed through her brain about how she wished she’d been nicer to her father the last time they’d talked and how much she’d miss Jake.
The voice said, “Gabby, relax. The bomb’s a fake.”
She blinked her eyes open and sagged against the side of the truck in relief. “Thank God.” She moved off Dean and sat with her back against the side, trying desperately to catch her breath. Then she glanced at Dean, who’d begun stirring, hating the swollen nose and bruises she’d put on his face, even though he was an ass. He deserved it, but she just wasn’t cut out for violence. Justified or not.
He slowly sat up. “What the hell has gotten into you, Gabby? I told them you’d come along peacefully. Where’s the sweet girl who kept her head down and got her job done every day?” His expression held a level of rage she’d never seen from him. “You’re ruining all of my perfect plans! We were supposed to find the statue, hand them both over, and then you and I were going to leave forever!”
When he made a move toward her, with hands cupped as if to choke her, the fury in his gaze showed he’d have no problem snapping her neck.
She pulled the gun from her waistband and pointed it at him. “Back off.” Her hands shook with adrenaline, but somehow she managed to point the barrel at him.
Dean’s eyes widened, but he let his hands drop. “You’d never shoot me.”
“Don’t push me.” After he had leaned back against the side again, she said, “What do we do now, Detective?”
Dean closed his eyes. “Perfect. You’re wired. All you had to do was go along with my plan . . .”
The detective said, “Keep a close eye on him. When they let you out, cooperate. Our shooters will be in place soon, but stall for time if you have the chance.”
So the police were going to take Pablo and his helper out. Made sense, since they’d kidnapped them. Maybe her father wouldn’t have to kill Pablo after all, and her dad could stay out of jail.
That was a small relief at least. Hopefully, she and Dean would survive long enough for the cops to free them.