Hidden Away

For a moment Garrett stared at the other man, his mind completely blank. Gunfire echoed through his ears, and the acrid smell of blood filled his nostrils. He was taken back six years. To a place and time when his team had been set-up by the very man they’d been sent to save.



Rage seared through his veins despite his attempt to keep cool and not let the others know just how affected he was by the mere mention of Marcus Lattimer’s name.



“Get to the point,” Sam cut in. “Why are you here and what’s Lattimer fucking up got to do with us?”



Resnick’s gaze never left Garrett. He knew. It pissed Garrett off that Resnick knew just what buttons to push and how to exploit his weakness.



“We’ve got the best opportunity we’re ever likely to get to take Lattimer down. I need you for the job,” he said to Garrett.



Donovan rose from his seat and came to stand to the side of the couch where Garrett sat. “Garrett’s out of commission right now. Find someone else.”



Garrett held up his hand. Donovan meant well, and for that, Garrett couldn’t get pissed. Sam was already frowning, fully prepared to get the corncob wedged farther up his ass.



“Talk,” Garrett said shortly. “The abbreviated version, if you don’t mind.”



“There is no abbreviated version of Marcus Lattimer,” Resnick said. “I don’t need to tell you all the shit he’s involved in. Or what he’s done in the past.”



“No, you damn well don’t need to tell me. He’s a goddamn traitor and the son of a bitch doesn’t deserve to live.”



“It’s personal for me too,” Resnick said softly. “But I’m not right for the job. You are.”



Garrett’s interest was solidly piqued. He had no doubt that over the years, Lattimer had pissed off a lot of people and betrayed just as many. It didn’t surprise him that the CIA had a major hard-on for him, but for Garrett, nothing else mattered but the faces of the men he’d lost on the day his team went in to rescue Lattimer.



“Why am I right for the job? You still haven’t told me how Lattimer fucked up.”



Resnick shoved the cigarette back into his mouth and ran his hand repeatedly through his hair until it looked like he’d stuck a finger in a light socket.



“Two weeks ago, he walked into a high-rise office building in Boston. Fifteen minutes later he walked out and Allen Cross was discovered shot to death in his office. Metro surveillance captured Lattimer entering the building and fifteen minutes later leaving the same way he came in. We don’t have inside surveillance because the system was conveniently down as soon as Lattimer walked in. As an added convenience, the security guard who was on duty that night has disappeared. With his entire family.”



“Yeah, pretty damn convenient,” Garrett muttered.



“That’s a pretty big fuckup for a man like Lattimer,” Sam said. “What made Allen Cross so special that Lattimer would do the job himself?”



“That I don’t know,” Resnick admitted. “We’re still trying to connect the dots.”



“So where do I come in?” Garrett asked.



Resnick fidgeted with his cigarette and Garrett was tempted to tell him to just light the damn thing and get it over with. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already smoke like a chimney.



“I’m getting to that. Sarah Daniels, who had a prior working relationship with Allen Cross, entered the building in an agitated state not long after Lattimer went in. She ran out just a few minutes later looking like Satan himself was after her. To add to an already fucked up situation, Stanley Cross was caught on surveillance entering the building not long before Sarah ran out. He’s the one who reported the murder after he found his brother’s body. But he denies seeing either Sarah or Lattimer.”



Garrett made a sound of disbelief. Marcus nodded. “Yeah. I figure Lattimer got to him and he’s scared shitless to say anything.”



“Think she witnessed Lattimer killing Cross?” Donovan asked.



Resnick inhaled and blew out his breath around the cigarette. “I think that not only did she see it go down, but I think she knew it was going to happen.”



“Whoa, you lost me there,” Garrett said. “That’s a hell of a stretch to make.”



Resnick held up his hand. “Sarah Daniels is a dot we haven’t been able to connect until now. Not only did she know the victim, but we believe that she has a relationship with Lattimer.”



“What kind of relationship?” Sam prompted. “You’re saying Sarah worked for Cross, was involved romantically with Lattimer and Lattimer shoots her boss?”



Resnick shook his head. “She’s Lattimer’s half sister.”



Garrett sat forward on the couch. “He doesn’t have any family. Hell, he killed his own father and then took over the old man’s business. His mother died when he was a child and he didn’t have any other siblings. I should know. I’ve looked for a way to get to that bastard for years. Even Van hasn’t come up with anything and there’s not much he can’t find.”



“We had someone undercover in Lattimer’s organization,” Resnick said. “We were this close to bringing Lattimer down when he got suspicious and my guy disappeared. I want Lattimer for this. I want him bad. Before he disappeared, my agent relayed information about Sarah. And here’s the thing. Resnick cares about her. He’s extremely protective of her. He’s gone to great lengths to keep his relationship to her secret because he doesn’t want his shit touching her. Remarkable, isn’t it? I’d have laid odds the bastard didn’t have a heart or a conscience.



“We were moving in on Sarah and setting up surveillance. I was in the process of getting wiretaps for her phone when this thing with Cross went down. We were in the same goddamn city as the bastard and he slipped through our fingers.”



Garrett rubbed absently at his shoulder as he let Resnick’s words sink in. Lattimer had a weakness. Weaknesses could be exploited.



“I want in.”



“Wait just a fucking minute, Garrett,” Sam said. “You don’t know what the job is.”



“It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, I want in.”



Donovan frowned and shook his head “You’re not ready to go back into action yet, man. This isn’t some pansy-ass cake job we’re talking, not to mention this is way too personal for you.”



Resnick cleared his throat. “It’s actually perfect for him. It’s why I came. It’s true I know how much you hate the bastard, Garrett, and I’m certainly not above using that to my advantage. But your injury provides the perfect cover.”



“Get to the point,” Garrett snapped.



“Sarah disappeared after she ran from the building where Cross was killed. It took us a while to find her. She used her real name to hop a flight to Miami but it got a little murky after that. Took some digging, but we found a pilot who took her to Isle de Bijoux. She paid via a wire transfer and used a fake name. Marcus is obviously funding her. She’s currently holed up in a cottage on a remote section of the beach.”



Donovan crossed his arms over his chest and sat on the arm of the couch next to Garrett. “I can already tell I don’t like where this is going.”



“So why aren’t you sending one of your men in?” Sam asked.



“Isle de Bijoux is small, not a lot of tourists. I need someone who’d blend. Someone with a reason for being there. Plus Garrett’s motivated. He hates Lattimer’s guts. And I wanted to give him the opportunity to take him down,” he added in an even voice.



“Blend? You think he’d blend?” Donovan asked in amusement.



“He’s perfect,” Resnick said. “He already looks like shit. He needs a shave and a haircut. He’s recovering from an injury. You’d take the beach cottage down from Sarah’s. Do a little fishing. Hang out on the beach. Get some rest. It’d be a mini vacation and all you have to do is keep an eye on Sarah Daniels until Lattimer shows up.”



Garrett stood and began to pace back and forth in front of the couch. His shoulder was aching, but he’d be damned if he gave in to the urge to rub it. Sam and Donovan would be on him about taking it easy, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was take it easy. He was damned tired of being laid up like some invalid. He was itching to get back in the game. Go to work. Even if it was some cake babysitting job. That wasn’t what appealed. Beach and sun and sand did nothing for him. But the opportunity to nail Lattimer? He didn’t give a shit if it meant him going to Bumfuck Africa.



He paused in mid-pace and turned his stare on Resick. “You’re so sure he’s going to show.”



“Yeah. He’ll show. Sarah’s too important to him. She’s the only damn thing he seems to care about in the world. If he doesn’t show, he’ll eventually get her to come to him. Either way, if you’re on her tail, we nail him.”



“So that’s it. I go to this island and I keep an eye on her. Wait for Lattimer to show his hand and nail his ass to the wall.”



Resnick blew out his breath. “Hell, I don’t care if you sleep with her or play priest to her nun. I just need you close enough that you know when she so much as takes a piss. I want to know if Lattimer contacts her or she contacts him. And another thing, Garrett. I don’t want you to lose your goddamn head over this. Do it right. Don’t try to be a hero. If Lattimer shows, don’t try anything stupid. We want him alive.”



Sam’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of backup will he have if things go to shit? I don’t like the idea of sending one man in on any job, no matter how simple it sounds.”



“The full power of my resources,” Resnick said. “Whatever you need.”



Garrett glanced first at Sam, who didn’t look thrilled, and then to Donovan who simply looked worried. Then he looked back at Resnick. “Do you have a file on Sarah? Photos? Age? Habits?”



Resnick’s eye twitched and he reached for his cigarette again. “Of course.” He reached into his suit and pulled out a folder. He thrust it at Garrett who took it and flipped it open. Paper clipped to the first page was a photo.



Sarah was beautiful. Not classical and elegant like Rachel or cute and sweet looking like Sophie, but a quiet beauty that didn’t jump off the page at you but rather settled in nice and comfortably.



She had long chestnut hair, a light dusting of freckles over her nose and deep green eyes. She wasn’t smiling in the picture but he’d bet his last dollar that when she did smile, it lit up her entire face.



He thumbed through her information, glancing at her job. She was an administrative assistant. She’d taken the job as Allen Cross’s executive assistant eighteen months prior. That had only lasted six months. She hadn’t taken a job since. He raised an eyebrow at that. Maybe her brother was footing her bills.



She lived in Boston but had been born and raised in Alabama. No siblings—officially. No parents. According to her records, she’d been raised in foster care for most of her childhood. He frowned. If she was Lattimer’s half sister, then why the hell had she been raised in foster care when he’d grown up with a silver spoon?



She had an apartment in a modest area of Boston. Lived alone. She had acquaintances, but no apparent close friends. She seemed to have lost touch with people she’d formerly hung out with after she’d quit her job with Cross.



He traced the outline of her face on the picture. So she was a loner. Probably what she was used to. In another life, Garrett imagined he was a hermit, and if his overbearing family would allow it, he’d be a total cave dweller now.



Garrett rubbed his neck and then glanced back at Resnick. “You aren’t holding out any other information from me, are you? This is it? I stick to Sarah Daniels and nail Lattimer when the time comes.”



“In a nutshell, yeah. Think of it as paid vacation. With a pretty woman at that.”



Garrett blew out his breath. “Okay, when do you want me down there?”



Resnick shot him a rueful glance. “Try yesterday.”



CHAPTER 3



PARADISE had become hell. Despite the beauty of her surroundings, Sarah Daniels spent every minute of every day looking over her shoulder and waiting. Waiting to be discovered. After her arrival on the island, she’d spent the entire first week holed up in the tiny cottage she’d rented, barely able to sleep for fear of discovery.



Marcus had always been determined to take care of her. It frustrated him that she wouldn’t accept his lavish gifts, his money or his offer to buy her a house complete with staff to see to her every need. What he had done was set up a bank account and deposited sums at intervals until a hefty balance had accumulated. As much as she’d been determined not to draw on those reserves, she was grateful now that he’d done it.



She’d use the money to protect him, just as he’d protected her.