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“Damn it,” Callum shouted. “I wanted to hit him.”
“You snooze, you lose,” Violet said.
It had become clear about ten seconds after Rachel had hired the woman that Violet showed no fear of anyone on the team. Ryan wondered if she’d been introduced to Grunt yet. Now that was a meeting he’d like to witness.
Noah, another of Joe’s childhood friends—and an Atlantic City cop—rushed into the room, looking harried and slightly shell-shocked. He glanced at the driver on the floor, then looked over at Callum. “If I take the job with Benson Security, I want your word that you will never partner me with her again. You hear me? If you do, I’ll quit and move the family back to the States.”
“Drama queen.” Violet strode towards the rest of the team, stepping on the driver’s hand as she passed him. She didn’t even look back as he wailed and curled into a ball.
Elle leaned in to Ryan and whispered, “You know what they say about her in Glasgow?”
“No.” Ryan kept his eyes on Violet, just in case the woman decided to take out her gun and massacre the lot of them.
“Before she was kicked off the police force, there were incidents where suspects under her care were mysteriously hurt. If one of them disappeared, never to be found, the rumour was that they’d died Violent-Lee. Violently. Get it?”
“Yeah, Elle, I got it.” Violet scared the crap out of him. He could totally understand why Noah looked like he needed some up close and personal contact with a bottle of whisky.
Violet came to a halt beside Callum. “I know who the kidnappers are.”
“Who?” Callum snapped.
“The Martinez family.”
The tension went up a notch. The fledgling cartel was fast gaining a reputation for their kidnapping for ransom efforts and their willingness to run drugs where others feared to tread.
“But”—Violet reached into her pocket, pulled out a wet wipe and calmly proceeded to clean the blood from her hands—“it wasn’t the gang’s idea to snatch the actress. Someone hired them.” She cocked a thumb behind her. “Tiny dick over there doesn’t know who. He just took the money they offered him and tried to run.” She reached into another pocket and tossed a piece of paper onto the table in front of Elle. “That’s his bank account number. Maybe you can trace the money back to the source.” She turned to glare at the driver. “Now what do you want to do about him?”
“Don’t let her near me,” the driver begged. “Please, somebody, keep her away from me.”
The smile that crept over Violet’s face was chilling.
“We’ll secure him for the cops,” Lake said. “No more damage unless it’s necessary.” Violet opened her mouth, but Lake held up a hand. “Unless I deem it necessary.”
She frowned, clearly in disagreement with that edict.
After another terse command to reconvene half an hour before dawn, Lake dismissed the team to their tasks. Ryan wondered if Harvard would give him a minute to run to his room and see if his girl was still there before they went about assembling the team’s gear. One look at the big man’s stony face told him no. Guess he’d have to be happy with chasing her down when this was over. He was due a proper vacation. Maybe he’d take some time and hang around after everyone else had gone home. Yeah, he liked that idea a lot. For some reason, he knew it would take a lot more than one night to get Esperanza out of his system.
Chapter 7
The kidnappers’ toilet turned out to be a ratty wooden cubicle built over a hole in the ground. Belinda thought it was taking the whole experience a step too far. Would the kidnapping have felt less authentic if they had a proper toilet? She didn’t think so.
Someone had strung some storm lamps throughout the camp, and the dull yellow glow gave barely enough light inside the toilet hut. She looked in the hole. Eyes shone out at her. Oh no. Just no. There was no way she was baring her backside to whatever was down there. She would just hold it until the rescue, because seriously, how long would it take? They already knew where she was being held.
After a suitable amount of time had passed to make him think she’d used the facilities, Belinda called for the guard. With a bored jerk of his head, he motioned for her to follow him back across the compound to her cell. She desperately wanted to question him about his role in the fake kidnapping, but she knew she couldn’t break character. She’d done that enough already, and it was clear it wasn’t allowed.
The setup of the camp was impressive. If she didn’t know it was fake, she would have totally believed it. In fact, it was so authentic that a niggling thought started jabbing at her brain, telling her it was re
al. Could John be right? Had they really been kidnapped?
Walking across the uneven ground was tough in her party shoes. Her four-inch heels weren’t designed for traversing the outdoors. Actually, she was pretty sure they weren’t designed for anything other than standing still and looking pretty. Each step was agony, and she worried she’d roll her ankle and John would have to carry her back to the resort. Not John, Beast. She rolled her eyes. It was the kind of nickname a kid picked for himself, not a full-grown man. But whatever, she’d play along. It was what she did best.
Belinda slowed her walk to give her time to see as much as possible. There were five shack-like cabins dotted around the clearing. The voices of several men could be heard coming from the largest one. A radio blared and people laughed. It was another clear sign that this was all fake, because surely if it were real they wouldn’t be hanging around partying.
The camp was surrounded by the dense foliage of the Amazon rainforest. The faint light didn’t let her see much beyond the huts, but she could still make out a wall of trees and plants. Nothing else. Just trees and plants. There was no sound of rushing water, which meant they were nowhere near one of the many rivers running through the rainforest. Instead, she noticed a dirt track behind the main cabin. The path to a boat? She wasn’t sure.
“I speak English,” the man beside her announced.
“That’s nice.” Belinda smiled at him. No point in being moody with the cast.
