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“Enter,” he commanded.
His visitor didn’t seem impressed by the opulence of the room. And his visitor especially didn’t seem impressed by the company.
“Mr. Valentine. You said you wanted to see me.” The visitor smiled slightly and took a seat in one of the club chairs facing the fireplace. Angelo didn’t know why, but he had the sudden feeling he was no longer the one in control.
“There’s a certain place in my organization for overconfidence,” Angelo said. “This is not one of those times or places. Everyone’s usefulness runs out eventually. It’s best you remember that.”
The visitor nodded, but the small smile never vanished. Sweat snaked down Angelo’s spine and dampened the Italian shirt he wore. He could smell his own fear and wondered if the visitor could as well.
“Tell me what your plans are for my niece. I don’t want that list to make it out of the bank vault. Do you understand?”
“Oh, I understand, Mr. Valentine. Now it’s time for you to understand that I’m the one calling the shots. I don’t want any more screwups, and your men thus far have seemed less than competent.”
“And you’d better understand where the money’s coming from,” Angelo said. “Don’t disappoint me. And one more thing. A little change from my earlier orders. I want Rachel brought to me alive. Do what you want with the man and anyone else who gets in your way, but I want Rachel to know what happened to her father before she dies. And I want her to know who’s going to end it all.”
It was everything Angelo could do not to rub his hands together in anticipation. Rachel had caused him considerable trouble, and it was only fair he paid her back in full. Nobody messed with Angelo Valentine, and the knife he carried in the sheath at his side would guarantee it was the last thing Rachel would ever remember.
“Whatever you want, Mr. Valentine,” the visitor said, smirking. “But a kidnapping is going to make my price go up by a hundred thousand.”
“Or I could kill you now, and find someone else who is more accommodating,” Angelo countered.
“You could certainly try.” The visitor got up from the chair and walked away calmly, the small smile never wavering.
Angelo didn’t take a breath until the front door closed.
ChapterEleven
Dawn was just breaking over the horizon when Shane stepped out of the house.
Gravel crunched beneath his feet and he looked over the stolen Honda thoroughly to make sure no one had tampered with it. He grabbed the burner cell phone out of the front seat and a look at the screen told him Wildcat hadn’t tried to call. Not good news. He shoved the phone in his back pocket and left the protection of the garage area. If there was going to be a showdown, he wanted to be prepared and take every advantage of the land and any resources at his disposal.
Unfortunately, the land they were stuck on had a whole lot of nothing, and there were no resources that he could see in any direction. The dilapidated barn sat in the middle of acres of six-foot-high wheat. Trees were nonexistent and there were no houses.
Shane figured they’d been lucky up to this point. If Wildcat had turned against them their chances for survival had decreased significantly, and it was a danger to stay in one place too long. His old commander was brilliant at combat tactics, but Shane still held hope that his friend would come through for them in the end. Old habits were hard to break.
Shane had used up more than half of the hour he’d given Rachel as a time gauge. He’d had enough time to think of a plan, but there were a lot of things that could still go wrong. There were too many variables that factored into keeping Rachel safe, and he wasn’t afraid to admit he was being overly cautious where she was concerned. Maybe he’d lost his edge since Maggie’s death. He’d been stuck behind a desk for two years looking for missing persons and tracking down people who were defrauding their insurance companies.
This was not the time to lose confidence in his abilities now that Rachel’s life was on the line.
He was heading back toward the house and Rachel when he felt the vibrations under his feet. A black SUV, windows tinted black and dirt flying from under its tires, came up behind him. Shane had the gun in his hand in an instant and hunkered down in the tall stalks of wheat, training the weapon on whoever was about to get out of the vehicle.
The passenger-side door opened and a pair of denim-clad legs stepped out. The woman was petite and her blond hair grazed just above her shoulders, framing an elfin face. Shane would have thought she looked like a perky high school cheerleader if hadn’t been for her eyes. She had cop eyes, intense and assessing as she looked around the area for possible threats. She wore a shoulder holster over a casual white T-shirt and thick-soled Vibram boots under a pair of baggy jeans. He had her pegged for a fed, despite the government license plates on the SUV or the casual clothing.
It was the driver of the SUV who finally pulled Shane’s curiosity away from the woman. Jones Daugherty walked around the back of the vehicle and joined his companion. Jones had always been a big man, but he seemed like a giant next to the petite woman, and it looked like he’d been hitting the gym hard over the last couple of years. Other than being a little thicker across the chest, he still looked the same—the same blond hair cropped close to the skull in a military style and the same intricate tattoo that ran from his wrist to his elbow.
But there was definitely one noticeable difference. Shane had never seen Wildcat squeeze a colleague on the rear and whisper a suggestion lewd enough to make the colleague in question blush.
“Come on out, Ace,” Wildcat called out. “I know you’re out there somewhere. I can feel you staring at me. We need to talk.”
Shane wasn’t really left with any other options. Wildcat was standing between him and Rachel, and his first priority was keeping her safe. Shane stood up slowly and left his hiding place, keeping his weapon trained on the enemy. The action left a bitter taste in his mouth since it was his closest friend at the other end of the target.
Jones met Shane’s steady gaze and glanced at the gun in his hand, laughing a little at the sight. He held his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Don’t shoot, Ace. Though I probably shouldn’t be worried about you hitting me since you’ve been playing private eye for the last couple of years. I bet you’ve lost all your instincts, spying on cheating wives and looking for lost kittens.”
“Like hell, I have,” Shane said indignantly, wishing he hadn’t had the same thought mere minutes before. “Anytime you want to go a round just say the word. Who’s your friend?”
“We’ll get to that. I figure I should start out by telling you I got trapped in Chicago for a couple of days,” Wildcat said. “It’s a real mess up there, and I couldn’t leave in the middle of it without drawing suspicion my way. People have a tendency to keep an eye on IA men since we’re considered the bad guys. And the lady you’re pointing the gun at is my fiancée. She’s a lot meaner than I am, and she’ll get real nasty if you shoot me. I’ve already been fitted for my tux.”
“Special Agent Carrie Layne,” she said, nodding in his direction and giving him a smile meant to put him at ease. “I’ve heard a lot about you. And most of it was fairly entertaining. Maybe you could show me the tattoo you got in Afghanistan some time.”
