He watched her rise. Every male hormone in his body jumped to attention when she strode to the hall, where he assumed there was a bathroom. He lay there a moment, ordering his libido to settle down. An instant later the sound of running water reached him and he realized the place had an operable shower.
Silently thanking the MIDNIGHT Agency, he struggled to his feet. The pain in his arm snarled as he made his way to the kitchen and looked in the cabinets for coffee. Sure enough, two packages of instant coffee gleamed up at him like gold.
By the time he’d made two cups, Jess had come out of the shower. Her hair was curly and wet, her cheeks pink. Madrid shoved one of the cups at her, trying not to notice the way that old sweatshirt clung to curves he had absolutely no business noticing.
“Where on earth did you find coffee?” she asked.
“Right next to the protein bars and the camp stove.” Looking into her eyes, he found it easy to smile, even through the pain and the knowledge that he needed a shower.
“Chocolate?”
“Of course.” He handed her one of the bars.
Something warm and uncomfortable fluttered inside him when she smiled back. Damn, she had the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.
Realizing he was doing the one thing he shouldn’t, he crossed to the counter where he’d left the photos he’d confiscated the night before from the Lighthouse Point PD.
“I thought we’d go through this and see if we can figure out what the hell’s going on.” Easing himself into a chair, he spread six photos on the table. “I wish I’d been able to grab more.”
“Kind of hard when someone’s shooting at you.” Jess took the chair next to his and looked at the photos. “What are we looking for?”
“Something that might give us a clue as to where these women are being held.” He wished for the magnification/high resolution software available at MIDNIGHT headquarters, but knew he would have to rely on his naked eye this time around. “Logo on a shirt. License plate number. Street sign.” He sighed. “As far as we know, this may not even be taking place in the United States.”
“But you think these women are ultimately ending up here, right?”
He grimaced. “Yeah.”
They studied the scant evidence spread out before them. After a moment Jess leaned forward and put her finger against one of the photos. “What about this?”
The photo depicted two frightened-looking women with their hands bound behind their backs. Madrid hadn’t been able to discern where they were standing, because the background was blurred. But in the far right-hand corner there was a tiny round porthole. Through the porthole several letters were visible. “X-A-N-A,” he recited.
“What do they mean?”
His heart beat faster. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice this sooner.”
“What is it?”
“Looks like part of the name of a ship.” He glanced over at her.
“The ship where these women are being held?” she asked excitedly.
Tearing his gaze away from her, he focused on the photo. “What we’re seeing is the bow of another ship through the window.”
“How is that going to help us?”
“If I can figure out the full name of the ship, we might be able to find the port where it’s docked.”
“Seems like a big undertaking, considering our resources.”
“It’s a long shot, but we might get lucky.”
The one thing Madrid was sure of was that to do either of those things, he would need to contact the MIDNIGHT Agency. It was something he hadn’t wanted to do again, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He had a sinking suspicion Angela had been onto something a lot bigger than anyone had anticipated.
“Let’s see if Santa left us a cell phone that can’t be traced.”
Jess’s brows went together. “Santa?”
Given that the place was a MIDNIGHT Agency safe house, there was a good chance an untraceable cell phone had been supplied. Madrid began going through the box of supplies Jess had found the night before. Sure enough, buried beneath the bottled water and batteries was a tiny cell phone.
Quickly he punched in the number from memory and waited. Jake Vanderpol answered on the second ring. “Don’t tell me,” he began without preamble. “You need a favor.”
Madrid couldn’t help it; he smiled. “I need a miracle, but a favor will do.”
“Cutter called a meeting yesterday, told us not to help you.”
“I was wondering why you didn’t call me back.”
“Not only has Cutter been a pain about this, but information has been tough to come by. I’m still working on a few things.”
But uncertainty fluttered uncomfortably inside Madrid. “I wouldn’t put you on the spot like this if it wasn’t important.”
A beat of silence, then Jake sighed. “Madrid, you are going to owe me big-time.”
“I need to know the name of the port where a cargo or container ship is docked.”
“U.S.?”
“Probably.”
“What’s the hull number?”
“All I have is a partial name. X-A-N-A.”
“Well, that ought to make it easy,” Jake said dryly.
“How soon can you get it for me?”
“Give me an hour.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Madrid said. He gave him the cell phone number and snapped the phone closed.