“He saw too much and now he’s in the way.”
She looked around, half expecting to see the child tied to a chair. “Where is he?”
“In a safe place.”
“I want to see him.”
“You’re in no position to be making demands.”
Jess envisioned herself launching herself at him, clawing at his face and eyes and neck with her nails. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to stop him before he did something irrevocable.
“He’s just a little boy,” she pleaded. “Please, let him go. He can’t speak.”
“I’m afraid I can’t take that risk. You see, both of you are witnesses to something I do not want coming to light.”
“You mean your human smuggling operation?”
Something dark and unsettling glinted in his eyes. “You get an A-plus for ingenuity. It’s unfortunate that both of you will have to die for it. It won’t take much to make the police believe you killed Angela, took her son and fled the country.”
“They’ll never believe it.”
“You have…shall we say, a history of running away from problems.”
“Mike Madrid knows the truth.” The words were out before she could stop them. She knew better than to speak of Madrid, but she was desperate and terrified and grasping at straws.
“Ah, I see. You and the federal agent have grown close.”
“No.” She panted the word, breathless with fear and panic. “He knows all about your operation.”
Mummert stood abruptly. Jess shrank away from him when he approached her. Gripping her chin with his hand, he squeezed hard enough to cause pain and forced her gaze to his. “You have no idea how many problems you’ve caused me.”
“Your problems are just beginning.” She ground out the words.
An evil smile split his face. “I will take no pleasure in hurting that child. But I’m going to enjoy seeing you die.”
Jess responded the only way she could and spat in his face.
Mummert’s cheeks reddened. She barely had time to brace when he struck her with an open-handed slap hard enough to snap her teeth together. Pain zinged from cheekbone to jaw, fierce enough to make her eyes water.
Stepping back, he shook himself, then turned his attention to one of the other men. “Prepare the Dorian Rae for departure. I want to be out of this port by oh four hundred.” He glanced at his watch. “I want to be in international waters before dawn so I can watch this little bitch die.”
He looked at Jess. “Take her to the brig and secure an anchor around her neck.”
Jess stared at him, shock and horror punching her. “No!” she screamed. “You can’t do this.”
“I can, and I will.” He nodded to the two men holding her arms. “Go,” he said to them.
Jess fought them with all her might, but with her hands bound behind her she was helpless. “Please!” she cried. “At least let the little boy go. Please!”
Mummert gave her that evil smile again. “You should have thought of him before you got involved in this, princess.”
Chapter Eighteen
Madrid had been in plenty of iffy situations in the years he’d been with the MIDNIGHT Agency. He’d been scared out of his wits too many times to count. But for the life of him he couldn’t remember a time when the fear had been quite so paralyzing. The kind of cold terror that permeated all the way to his bones.
It was a cruel twist that the fear was not born of self-preservation, but the safety of someone he loved.
The realization that he’d fallen in love with Jess stunned him. Made him realize she meant the world to him. That he would do anything—including risk his own life—to save her and Nicolas.
If only he knew how.
“You got it bad for her, huh, Madrid?”
Jake Vanderpol’s voice jerked him from his reverie. For a moment he just stared at the other man, not sure how to answer without changing the dynamics of the situation. But in the end he decided on the truth. “Worse than bad.”
They were in Vanderpol’s car heading toward Humboldt Bay. Madrid motioned right and they turned onto the same dirt road he and Jess had used the night before. His heart jigged in his chest when he spotted the RV. “She’s here.”
The car fishtailed in mud when Vanderpol hit the brakes.
“Could be a trap,” he suggested.
But Madrid already had the door open. He hit the ground running, praying he would find her inside the RV. In the far distance he heard Vanderpol shout his name, but he didn’t stop. He had both his gun and flashlight out, a bullet chambered by the time he reached the RV. He burst into the vehicle and did a quick sweep of the place, but she wasn’t there. But then he’d known he would find the place empty. He’d been hoping for a miracle.
He jolted when Vanderpol came up behind him and set his hand on his shoulder. “She’s on board the ship, partner.”
Cursing beneath his breath, Madrid went to the car, to the satchel of items he’d taken from Angela’s house.
“What are you doing?” Vanderpol asked.