Dangerous Desire

24

Her husband, on the other hand, is a different subject. I cannot wait to get my hands on that son of a b***h.

Catherine takes a few moments to get the growling under control, then snaps, “He’s headed here.”

Connor and I look at each other with raised brows. “Here?” I repeat, my head c****d. That certainly isn’t what the last position of his LEO phone indicated. At last look, the Silver Shadow was headed due east from New York, out into the open ocean toward Europe, not north up the Atlantic coast.

“Yes. He’d sailed from Barbados and stopped in New York to drop off a . . .” She trails off, looking slightly guilty.

“We know what your typical cargo is, lady,” I say sourly. “Get on with it.”

“After New York, he was coming back here. To Halifax. At least, that was the plan the last I heard. He hasn’t checked in with me since last night.”

Connor sends me a questioning look I interpret as Should I dunk her? I shake my head, because I think she’s telling the truth.

Apparently Raphael got new marching orders. The question of the hour is: From whom?

“Who’s on the ship with your husband?”

“The captain. And crew. And go f**k yourself, pig.”

“Charming. How many crew?”

“There’s four of them. Three men and a young woman.”

“What about the big guy with the tattoos? He part of the crew?”

I get the confused squint again. “Big guy?”

Resisting the urge to kick water in her face, I say, “Yes. Shoulder-length dark hair. Lots of tattoos.”

She shakes her head. “There’s no one like that on staff.”

Just to confirm, I make her tell me what everyone looks like. She describes two African Americans, a Filipino, and two Caucasians, none of whom fit the description of the man who grabbed Eva on the deck of the ship.

“You ever deal with a guy who looks like what I’m describing? Any of your business contacts look like that? Friends? Acquaintances?”

Catherine shakes her head. “No. Are we done here? Because I’ve got my f*****g book club meeting to get to and I’m responsible for the booze. If those bitches don’t get their wine, they lose it. I’ll hear about it for months.”

Connor and I share a look of disbelief.

We’d nabbed her just as she was leaving her house, which happens to be conveniently close to the shore—which is conveniently close to the landing zone where the bird dropped us off—and so we decided to bring her down to this wide deserted beach for a little evening dip to see if we could determine where her husband was en route to.

We could’ve just interrogated her inside the house, but getting handcuffed and gagged, thrown into the trunk of your car, and driven to a remote location is always more terrifying and truth-inducing than sitting in your recliner at home, so here we are.

Except for her not being terrified—at all—it’s worked out.

I ask a few more questions, but get nothing that can help us discover where her husband is headed with Eva. Short of removing her fingernails with pliers, which I’m not about to do, we’ve reached a dead end. So we take her back up to her Mercedes and toss her back into the trunk.

Then Connor and I climb inside and sit in the darkness, watching the waves roll onto the shore and listening to the human filth in Chanel in the trunk call us every name in the book while we drip salt water all over her Corinthian leather seats.

“Looks like it’s time to send the Mr. a pic of his Mrs.”

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Connor says, “It’s dangerous. He could overreact.”

I drag a hand over my face, ignoring the burn in my chest that is progressively getting worse. I won’t think about what’s happening inside my lungs. They can collapse later, after I’ve gotten Eva back.

“We’re out of options. My guess is whoever this tattooed bastard is, he wasn’t expected. From what Tabby discovered, the Bergés operate as a team. The wife would know this guy if he’d been around before. If hubby was supposed to be coming home but made an unexpected detour, it was probably under duress. Doubly so since he didn’t call her to let her know his change of plans. So maybe he finds out his wife is in danger and agrees to give us some intel if it saves her ass.”

“Or maybe he asks us to do him a solid and put a bullet in her head. Imagine what living with her must be like. Jesus. I’d already be swinging from the rafters. He probably won’t give a rat’s ass what we do to her.”

“You got any other suggestions? I’m all ears.”

“Only what I’ve suggested before. We wait until they land somewhere, then go get her. Once they’re out of the water, it’ll be much easier to track them.”

My temper flares. I had my s**t under control on the two-hour bird ride up here from New York that we arranged as soon as Tabby had Raphael’s home address, but now I’m starting to lose it again. “I’m not waiting. We’ve been over this. Time is of the essence, you know that.”

“Only other viable option is to guess at where they’re heading based on their trip so far and get out in front of ’em and wait.”