In the Enemy's Arms (24 page)

“Don’t put your seat belt on,” Evan said when she reached for it. “Get back out and stand on your side of the truck. Let them see you, but don’t step out from behind the truck unless you have no other choice. And if things go wrong, duck.”

She let the belt slide free and did as he said, unsure her legs were steady enough to hold her without Justin there for support. All she could have at the moment was a glance from him, along with a smile that flattened his mouth, but it would have to be enough.

Five days. This was only the fifth day since she’d left home, planning a pleasant, quiet trip, doing preventive care for the girls at the home and indulging in a little private envy of Trent and Susanna’s relationship. Only five days, and so much had changed—her outlook, her life, her self. She was a different woman.

In love with a very different man.

The growl of the plane’s engines grew louder as the pilot headed straight toward the hangar. At what seemed the last possible moment, the jet pivoted in a tight right turn, stopping so the exit was just outside the reach of the dim lights inside.

The door opened, the steps folded down, and two men, both armed, exited the plane and took up position on either side. The third man, Cate was sure, was the bastard she’d spoken to on the phone. He looked exactly the way he sounded: smarmy, phony, capable of horrible things. Evil in a thousand-dollar suit.

Followed by evil in a five-thousand-dollar suit. Cate recognized Joseph Wallace from fundraising brochures for
La Casa—handsome, a little too polished. She’d always thought that veneer hid the superiority people like him—like Justin—wore to hide their contempt for those beneath them. Now she knew it hid the malevolence inside him.

And she whispered a silent apology to Justin for ever considering him equal to the snake.

Wallace stopped a dozen feet in front of Justin and gave him a sweeping look that dismissed him as harmless. “You have the files?”

Justin produced the flash drive from his pocket but didn’t offer it.

“And the girl?”

“She’s in the truck.” Not quite turning his head, he called in Spanish, and Luisa leaned forward to wave one hand out the driver’s window. “Where are Trent and Susanna?”

“In the plane. Get her out.”

Justin grinned. “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

Wallace hesitated, then gestured, and the smarmy guy walked back to the plane, leaning inside to bark a command. Cate’s breath caught in her chest as she stared hard at the narrow door, waiting, willing, praying.

Susanna stepped out first, her hair curling wildly, her clothes rumpled, an air of utter exhaustion about her. She didn’t appear to have been harmed, just very frightened. Still very frightened.

A few steps behind her was Trent, in jeans and a
T-shirt, unshaven, also tired, but if he was afraid, like Justin, he hid it well.

From inside the truck, Cate heard Luisa squeal with delight at the sight of Susanna, and Evan whispered harshly to her, dissuading her, Cate guessed, from jumping out of the truck and running to her friend.

The guards stopped Susanna and Trent before they’d taken more than a few steps, and Wallace said, as politely bored as if he were ordering coffee and a pastry, “The flash drive and the girl.”

Justin didn’t move. “What if I made a copy of the files?”

Wallace shrugged. “We have instant access to the girls—all of them. If you create any further trouble, the results for them would be disastrous. Collateral damage. One of the costs of doing business.”

To say nothing of the fact that he intended to have his thugs kill them all where they stood, Cate thought.

“That’s a lot of valuable property to destroy,” Justin said mildly.

Wallace’s laugh sent a chill through her, forcing her to lean against the fender to stay upright.

“Maybe I was wrong earlier. You weren’t playing stupid. You really are. Do you have any idea how many little girls there are in the world that nobody wants? I could replace these twenty-two with two hundred twenty-two in no time, and I’d have buyers clamoring for every one.” He gestured again, and the men with guns came closer. Two more exited the plane.

When were Rick and Evan going to step in? It seemed the moment the plane’s door had opened would have been a good time, or any second since then. Right now Cate would be happy to see the crabby FBI agent or even an airport security guard—anyone with a gun. “What are you waiting for?” she whispered.

She startled when Evan answered. “He just admitted to selling the kids. Anytime now.”

Of course. A rich man like Joseph Wallace could buy the best defense ever. The more evidence, the stronger the case. Rick’s team had set up cameras and were filming the exchange. What juror could watch Wallace talk so callously about selling and killing little girls and not convict him?

“My property, please,” Wallace said, and Justin finally moved, walking forward to set the flash drive on top of a wooden crate halfway between them.

“And the girl.”

“Since you sold her to the Suttons, isn’t she technically their property?”

“Technically, I suppose. But if they can’t control an eight-year-old, I’ll find a buyer who can.” Impatience shimmered in his next words. “Quit talking and get her out here. I’ve got a meeting in the morning regarding the children’s home we’re opening in El Salvador next month. I predict we’ll be able to make a large number of placements with clients—er, parents—eager to bring grateful children into their lives.”

“Of course you wouldn’t want to miss that,” Justin grumbled as he started toward the SUV.

“Okay,” Evan murmured from inside the truck, and a soft thud sounded as he tossed a set of hearing protection ear muffs into the passenger seat.

Cate picked them up, her gaze darting from Justin, looking grim but relieved, to Evan, hastily putting an oversize pair of protectors onto Luisa. As Justin opened the door, he gave her a wink and a lazy grin, with a subtle backward nod.

She stepped a few feet to the right, the movement enough to catch Trent’s attention, and fitted the thick padded cups over her ears. He murmured to Susanna, and both of them clamped their hands over their own ears as Justin lifted Luisa out of the backseat and turned, holding her head tightly to his chest and squeezing his eyes shut.

Even with protection, the explosion from the flashbang grenade Evan tossed through the open door was deafening. The blinding light jagged across Cate’s eyelids as the noise reverberated from one wall to the other and back again. She sank to her knees, vaguely aware of shouts, movement, but all she could see for the time it took her eyes to readjust was brilliant light; all she could hear were echoes.

When hands touched her, her eyes popped open and she ripped off the ear cups. Justin pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, and kissed her hard and fast. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Are you?”

He grimaced. “I can’t hear you.” It had been impossible for him to use hearing protection; even earplugs could have alerted Wallace and his men. His ears were going to be ringing for a while.

She cupped her hands to his face and stared intently into his beautiful brown eyes. “It’s over, we’re alive and I love you.”

The grin that curved his mouth came slowly but was full of every bit of smug confidence she’d ever seen in him. “I know.” Then he grew serious. “I love you, too.”

“I know.” She might not have acknowledged it, might have tried to give him every out in the book, but deep inside she knew. Some things weren’t logical or predictable. Some things couldn’t be thought through. Some things she just had to accept. Like getting shot at. Fleeing a foreign country. Rescuing friends from bad guys. Saving the world—at least for a few people.

And falling in love with the last guy in the world she would have picked for herself.

The only one she would trust with her happily-ever-after.

Snuggling deeper into his embrace, she gave him a sly look. “About that vacation you mentioned…”

* * *

It took a few days in Atlanta to tie things up, then Justin and Cate left for that vacation. He’d borrowed Alex’s plane again, and they’d flown back to Cozumel, catching a cab at the airport.

“Where are we going?”

He cocked his head to gaze at her. On the surface, they looked like opposites. He sprawled in the seat, too lazy to bother straightening his spine. She sat primly, spine erect, incredible legs crossed. His khaki shorts and Hawaiian shirt were rumpled from being stuffed in the first available space in the bag, and while he had shaved, he wasn’t sure he’d remembered to comb his hair. Her shorts and shirt were neatly pressed, her hair braided without a strand out of place.

Delicate and sweeter than sugar most of the time—that had been Trent’s description of her. Justin wondered how his buddy could have been so wrong about the woman he’d married. She wasn’t delicate; she was strong, tough, resilient. And while she had her moments of sweetness, there was plenty of temper and stubbornness to offset it. She had a lot of buttons to push.

And he truly enjoyed pushing them.

“Someplace special,” he said at last.

“Your house?”

He shook his head.

“La Casa?”

“Nope.”

“A pier at which we’ll find a luxurious yacht waiting to sail us away?”

“Nope.” Actually, he did have that yacht waiting. He’d arranged a crew to handle the boat, but no chef or anyone else. He would take care of the cooking—the leasing agent was stocking the galley today—and cleaning up after themselves was a small price to pay for privacy.

The cabdriver turned onto a narrow street, a horn blaring from the car he’d narrowly avoided, but Cate held Justin’s gaze. Slowly she smiled. “You know, I wouldn’t let just anyone make plans for me, then not tell me.”

“I know. But you trust me.” He grinned his most obnoxious grin. “You said so, and I’ve got witnesses.”

She twined her fingers with his. “The fact that I’m here proves I trust you. I don’t care where we go, as long as we go together.”

“Aw, doc, that’s the sappiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He forced the words out around the sudden tightness in his chest. He didn’t have a clue how Trent had failed to appreciate what he’d had in Cate, but he was damned grateful for it. He was going to be grateful every day that she loved him, and he was going to make her grateful that he loved her.

Except, of course, for the times she wanted to claw his face off.

After a few blocks, she sighed. “I’m glad it’s over.”

“Me, too.”
Over
being relative. Joseph Wallace and the men who’d accompanied him Friday night were in jail, facing a boatload of charges including child trafficking and kidnapping. All twenty-two girls had been removed from their homes and placed in temporary foster care; eighteen sets of adoptive parents were taken into custody; warrants had been issued for the remaining four pairs; and the feds were hacking away at the computer files. Justin was pretty sure Garcia would decrypt them first.

Mexican authorities had been busy, too, arresting some of the Wallace Foundation staff members, everyone associated with the adoption agency and some local thugs on the Wallace payroll. The only major player who’d avoided jail so far was Lucas Wallace. While Joseph had gone to Atlanta to face Justin—and the cops—Lucas had boarded his own private jet for parts unknown. It appeared he’d taken twenty or thirty million dollars with him. Not a bad bankroll for a man on the run.

But the kids were okay, at least on the surface, and love could heal any resulting problems. Thanks to intervention by Trent’s father, Luisa had been placed in the temporary custody of the woman in Idaho whose attempts to adopt her had put this whole ordeal in motion. Trent and Susanna were okay, too, spending a few days with her family before heading to Georgia to visit his family. All of them, including Justin and Cate, would have to testify at the upcoming trials, but he wasn’t going to worry about that. With the delays Wallace’s attorney would request, he and Cate would be celebrating at least their fifth anniversary before they had to set foot in a courtroom.

“I’m glad you and I weren’t arrested for kidnapping Luisa.”

Justin grinned at her. “Rescuing, doc. Keep the terminology straight. We saved Luisa’s life.” Again his chest grew uncomfortably tight, and his voice sounded rough. “I know you save lives all the time, but this was a first for me.”

Her fingers tightened on his even as her smile gentled. “That’s not true. You save lives with your time and your money. You help feed and shelter these girls. You give the kids at the community center opportunities they’ve never had. You give them hope. No one can live without hope.” Leaning across the seat, she whispered, “You give me hope,” then kissed him.

As usual, his body turned hot in the space of a breath, all the laziness he’d been experiencing earlier evaporating in a puff of smoke. Dimly he was aware of the cab slowing, turning, creeping so that the movement was barely perceptible. A scrape of metal was underscored by a mutter from the driver, but he didn’t care. As long as they got some privacy in the next few minutes before
he
evaporated in a puff of smoke.

Finally, the car stopped and the driver cleared his throat. Cate broke the kiss, pulling back, giving him an intimate smile, before she primly turned her attention to picking up her purse, undoing the seat belt, opening the door.

“Oh.” Her voice was soft and pleasantly surprised as she recognized their location. She gave him another intimate, bold, promise-of-pleasure smile as she got out of the car.

Justin paid the cabdriver, adding a generous tip for the scrapes, then hefted the duffel over his shoulder as the door to Room 11 opened.

“Tio Pablo!” Cate hugged the old man as if he were family, then breezed into the room where she and Justin had spent their first night together. “It’s so good to be back.”

Tio Pablo gave her a grin and Justin a wink. “It’s good to have you back.” He gestured toward a tray on the dresser. “Water, my best tequila, limes, a little Mayan avocado. What else do you need, besides time alone?”

Cate set her purse down, then slid her arm around Justin’s waist before she answered. “Not a thing.”