The Echo of Violence

He tensed his jaw as the fishing boat pulled anchor and motored into the dark, heading north. Whoever the men were, he had underestimated them.

That wouldn’t happen again.

“Next time you’re in my crosshairs,” he vowed, “I’m pulling the trigger.”

Kinkaid stood and retraced the tracks of the terrorists to get a good look at their boot prints and any distinctive footprints of the hostages. Such intel could be invaluable if he had to trail them later.

When he’d done all he could do, he gave thought to leaving the area. He knew he’d have to avoid going back the way he’d come. The stolen Toyota would be off-limits, especially with the police tracking terrorists in the vicinity. To avoid getting caught in an official interrogation, he’d need help to get out.

He grabbed his cell and hit speed dial for LaClaire. When the phone rang, he took a step forward and stumbled. A sudden burst of heat raged through his body as nausea hit hard. He grabbed a tree for support and dropped the AK-47. The rifle blurred on the ground as if it had vanished into a black hole. And when he looked down, he lost his balance. His world spun out of control.

Kinkaid dropped his phone and collapsed. He tumbled down an embankment, unable to stop. And jolts of pain melded into numb oblivion when he finally skidded to a halt with dirt and debris hitting his face.

“Talk to me, boss. What’s happening?”

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Joe’s voice. Lying flat on his belly, he opened his eyes to a blur of vague shadows. The faint glow of his cell phone came into focus for an instant, then multiplied and drifted from view. He tried moving, but couldn’t force his body to cooperate. Hell, he couldn’t even feel his legs.

“Where are you, Jackson?” Joe asked.

Good question, LaClaire. It was Kincaid’s last thought before his world went black.

Once aboard the vessel, Kate was herded with the rest of the hostages to the rear of the boat and shoved to her knees. She clung to the children and kept her head down, afraid to make eye contact with anyone.

A heavy tarp was thrown over their heads. It stank like dead fish, which made it nearly impossible to breathe, especially with the diesel fumes coming from the boat engine. And once they got under way, the rocking of the boat made some of the hostages sick. She heard them heaving and throwing up where they sat. The muggy stench became unbearable. She held her breath as long as she could.

But their isolation under the tarp soon ended.

One by one, hostages were hauled out and dragged to the front of the boat. Not even the drone of the engine masked the sobs and the screams. She only caught fragments of what was happening and recognized the voice of the leader, the one who spoke English. He asked questions about who they were and who might pay money for them. And for those who resisted, he tortured them until they cooperated.

When it came time for her, what would she tell him? And who would pay enough for the children? Their parents had no money.

She crouched under the heavy tarp until her leg muscles cramped, and her neck ached, waiting for them to come for her. Her mind reeled with what she might say. Eventually, her legs went to sleep, and the tingle felt like a million pinpricks stabbing her. And after hours in the same position, she couldn’t force her body to move at all. Her legs had grown numb.

But her captors never came for her. And that scared Kate more.

She stayed under the tarp until the boat came to a stop. Morning had come. She saw a pale light edge the tarp. That was when panic set in. She had to get the circulation back in her legs. If she couldn’t walk, she had no doubt they would kill her. Bending her legs and stretching her back, she forced her body to work although the movement sent excruciating pain through her muscles. She made sure the children and the other hostages did the same.

When the tarp was stripped from their heads, the shouting began again. They were shoved toward the small rafts and carried to shore by angry masked men with rifles. A lone stretch of beach and a dense jungle with rugged cliffs lay ahead. She looked for any indications of where they had landed, but there was nothing. No civilization in sight.

Kate had no idea where they were.

New York’s LaGuardia Airport

Midmorning

“No, this is my first time here. I’ve never been to New York,” Seth Harper told Alexa as he loaded his bag into the trunk of a car she had rented for the weekend. “I’m looking forward to seeing the city. And maybe we can score some tickets to Regis and Kelly.”

She had no idea if he was kidding.

Jessie would have known, but there was one thing Alexa picked up on. His crooked grin communicated more than he’d probably intended. No doubt Seth felt the awkwardness of their first few minutes together, so it was up to her to break the ice. This was her town and her invitation.

“I’m sure Regis appreciates the shout-out. I’m glad you’re here.” She touched his arm, and when he fixed his gaze on her, she had a strange reaction to the sudden intimacy she felt between them.

An electric rush swept through her body. She felt the same link with Garrett Wheeler, but that was only after years of demanding erotic encounters that triggered the feeling. She’d become attuned to the workings of her sensual nature because of Garrett. Yet so far, she had only kissed Seth. The potency of the physical connection she had with him stunned her.

Perhaps the feeling centered on the prospect of Seth Harper’s accepting her invitation, her first step toward taking on a young lover. She felt naughty, rebellious, and liberated at the same time, yet something else was at play that disturbed her. Seth had triggered an unsettling need—one she had to control for a while longer. She had a hurdle to get around before anything happened between them.

And that obstacle was Jessie.

She cleared her throat and grinned. “You look great. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat. What’s on the menu?”

You, she wanted to say.

Dressed in jeans, he wore a gray cotton shirt with rolled sleeves and vest. His dark wavy hair looked worthy of attention from her fingers. And as usual, his brown eyes held her in place without mercy. He had no idea what he did to her, but she wasn’t a fool. Anything personal that had happened between them came from her pushing the line with him, not the other way around. She’d given him plenty of signals that she was interested. Unlike most men, he’d never acted on them.

Some women preferred the bad-boy thing and would have been frustrated by Seth’s shyness. And yes, he was younger. His age, stamina, and naive innocence played a major part in why she had become the aggressor. Alexa knew what she liked. And her flavor of the day was Seth Harper. The more he played hard to get, the more she wanted him—lust in all its glory. His coy game of cat and mouse only stoked her fire.

“I’ve got just the place in mind.” She slipped behind the wheel and watched him slide into the passenger seat next to her. When she shut the car door, her cell phone rang. “Marlowe here.”

“Alexa. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Garrett’s low voice sounded intimate and masculine as if he were in bed next to her. “Are you free to talk?”

His not-so-perfect timing provoked a feeling of betrayal in her. And she resented the guilt, especially after she knew Garrett had not been faithful during the time they’d shared a bed. When she’d first learned the truth, she was hurt and angry but forced herself to get over it. That hadn’t been easy. Garrett was the kind of man who branded a woman and left his mark.

She had crossed the line with her boss by having a physical relationship with him, and there had been consequences to her actions. Alexa had hoped to put it all behind her—and not sacrifice their working relationship to do it.

“Sure. What’s up?”

With Seth in earshot, she was careful not to mention Garrett’s name. Her work would be off-limits.