“What did you hear?” Deacon murmured.
Echo unlatched the cab so that the other two could slide the crate into it. “Apparently old man Kelley is being asked to turn himself in.”
“Do you know why? What did he do?” Tango asked.
“No freaking clue. But he’s not cooperating, whatever it is.” Echo made a frustrated sound under his breath. “Le Clair doesn’t know what to do with the girl anymore. Whoever hired us is getting mighty impatient. Le Clair’s not too happy, either.”
Deacon sneaked a peek at the boss, whose dark eye brows were bunched together in sheer aggravation. This latest call in a string of phone calls was obviously not going well. Deacon’s gut went rigid with trepidation. “I don’t like this,” he said, echoing Tango’s earlier words. “Something’s not right with this entire job.”
“I hear ya,” Tango muttered.
“Ditto,” Echo added. “So…what do we do?”
Get Lana the hell out of here.
He swallowed back the words and pasted on an indifferent expression. “We wait,” he finally murmured. “Let’s get on that plane, see how things play out and figure it out then.”
They stored the last of the gear into the truck and latched it up. Deacon was slightly comforted by the fact that his fellow mercenaries shared his concerns, but at the moment, none of them could do a damn thing about it. Whatever was going on in the real world, it wasn’t good. Sooner or later, Le Clair would need to fill his men in on whatever it was.
And then Deacon would have to decide if he’d need to save his own skin.
Or protect Lana’s.
Washington, D.C. The irony of their destination didn’t escape Lana as the jet began its descent into the city that had caused her family so much turmoil. Le Clair hadn’t blindfolded her this time, so she had a clear view of the Washington Monument and the glow of lights from Capitol Hill as the jet headed for the runway below.
She used to visit her dad here when she was a kid. She and her mom lived in California for most of the year, but D.C. was like a second home. Her father’s entire life revolved around this darn city, so much so that he’d neglected all of his children, thanks to his high-profile political career.
Why had her captors brought her here? The choice of location troubled her, but also brought a flicker of hope. Maybe this was it. Her dad would give them the money they desired, and an exchange would be made. Maybe she could finally go home.
Lana jumped as the wheels connected with the runway, causing the plane to bounce and shudder until it finally came to a complete stop. On the other side of the lavish cabin, Deacon sat next to Tango, and she noticed that both men wore the same serious expression. They didn’t look happy about this latest development.
Neither was she.
And she certainly wasn’t happy with what had happened last night in the cabin. When she’d nearly seduced Deacon.
What had she been thinking?
Nothing at all.
No, she hadn’t been thinking last night. Rick Garrison’s senseless death had sent her reeling, placed her in a severe state of shock that left her numb and unable to conjure up a single rational thought. Even now, the memory of Garrison’s lifeless body caused her pulse to race. Le Clair had murdered that poor man in cold blood, and no matter what Deacon said, she knew she’d be saddled with Garrison’s death on her conscience for the rest of her life.
Her hands went cold as the ominous knowledge settled over her like a thick patch of fog. A man had died because of her.
No, because of her father. The one person she’d always stood by, given her unconditional love to, no matter how badly he screwed things up with her mother and siblings. Why hadn’t her father found a way to rescue her already?
The anger coursing through her came as a total shock. As a child, she’d idolized her dad. As an adult, she’d rationalized his mistakes, tried to see the best in him despite his many flaws.
Maybe she’d been wrong to do that. It was definitely getting harder to ignore everything Hank Kelley had done, especially now. Her father had cheated on her mother. He’d selfishly hurt his wife and Lana’s older brothers. And he’d hurt her, too, over the years, no matter how much she tried to deny it. He hadn’t even shown up for her college graduation, for Pete’s sake. But she’d forgiven him, of course.
She always forgave him, she realized bitterly. Always gave him the benefit of the doubt, even when her older brothers laughed at her for doing it, teasing her for being an idealistic fool.
But this…could she forgive her father for this? She’d been a prisoner for more than a month, and what was her dad doing? Sitting at home drinking his favorite bourbon while he continually refused to pay her ransom?
Why wasn’t he doing something, damn it?
Lana resisted the urge to cradle her belly. She’d been doing that too often lately, and was fearful that Deacon would start to pick up on the shielding gesture.